Hell Unleashed
by Drusilla2
Summary: When Buffy is resurrected by a darker power, two ancient forces declare war, and humanity is caught in the crossfire. B/S 'ship.
1. Resurrection

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: The Gift  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
AN1: I took the title "Hell Unleashed" from Gladiator. I think its fitting..  
  
AN2: When Buffy's demon is speaking to her in her mind, I represent their conversation   
like this: //sentence\\  
  
AN3: In Michael and Dylan's conversation, the English translations are placed in   
(parentheses)  
  
AN4: This story was inspired by Phillip Pullman's Dark Materials: The Golden Compass,   
The Subtle Knife, and The Amber Spyglass  
  
  
  
HELL UNLEASHED: PROLOGUE  
-------------------------  
  
  
She stood on the brink of a waterfall, eyes closed, dreaming. The water rushed between her  
slender feet, its frigity chilling her to the bone, threatening to drag her down to the   
bottomless black lagoon beneath its fall.  
  
She smiled, opening her eyes again. She felt the wind brush across her face gently, and yet  
her hair did not fly. She looked up, squinting her eyes at the perwinkle-blue sky dappled  
with blots of snowy clouds which lingered by the golden sun. Was this heaven? No. It   
couldn't be. It was too worldy, too earth-like.  
  
She looked down at herself, and observed in mild surprise that she was completely bare.  
Somehow, this fact was unimportant: in fact, it seemed fitting here.  
  
Wherever here was.  
  
She glanced at the towering, lime-stone cliffs which encompassed her waterfall, marvelling   
at the beauty of the environment around her. The drop was monstrous. Sharp black rocks  
greeted the falling water underneath; evidently erosion was a fiction.  
  
But she knew science. She had studied the laws of physics.  
  
She knew the laws of gravity instinctively.  
  
She stepped off the edge of the fall.  
  
She smiled, but she was not surprised when she discovered that she was standing in thin air.  
She took another step. And another.  
  
Scents of pine needles and maple and herbs drifted to her nose and she inhaled them  
deliciously, closing her eyes and grinning like a small child.  
  
Then her eyelids fluttered open, and suddenly, she was falling.  
  
She screamed, feeling her heart drop and tremble, until she had no more breath and choked  
as she inhaled the thick black smoke which curled and twisted and became intwined with her  
veins.   
  
She landed finally, but it seemed her world had changed. The beautiful blue sky that had  
just moments ago existed in front of her eyes had vanished. Only the heavy black fumes  
loomed in front of her. The earth was red and barren, cracked with drought.  
  
She winced, remembering the crunch of her head meeting the ground, and turned her head to  
the side and vomited. She put two fingers into her mouth to touch her lower gum, and when  
she withdrew them she saw that they were covered in blood.  
  
Pain coursed through her body like shocks of electricity and she screamed again. Her call  
was so raucous, so inhuman that she scarcely recognized it as her own. 'Oh God.' She   
prayed silently, tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face.  
  
//He wont help you.\\ Came a voice. She looked around to see where it came from but there  
was no one there. With a shock she realized it came from her head. Whoever was talking  
to her was sending his thoughts directly to her mind.  
  
//He doesn't hear the prayers of damned creatures. He can't help those who are in Hell.\\  
The voice continued.  
  
//Who *are* you?\\ She asked in her mind.  
  
//Your demon.\\  
  
//I don't have a demon.\\ She thought in annoyance.  
  
//Everyone has a demon. You especially.\\  
  
//Why am I in Hell?\\   
  
//Ah. Lucifer himself sent for you. It was he who sent me here. We have great plans for   
you.\\  
  
She narrowed her eyes. //Where are you?\\  
  
//Nowhere. I have no body. I take no form.\\  
  
She thought for a moment. //That place I was in before I came here. What was it?\\  
  
//Not heaven. Simply a world your mind created for yourself while you were nowhere.\\  
  
//Nowhere?\\  
  
//You weren't supposed to die, so your spirit was nowhere. It was not expected in Heaven or  
Hell so it wasn't sent to either place. So it invented a world for your eyes. The Angels  
would have found you and taken you in, but we got to you first.\\  
  
//What will you do with me?\\  
  
//They will insert me into your body without the blood ritual. We will return you to Earth  
as a creature of the night.\\  
  
She felt her anger rising. //So I'll be a vampire?\\ It was a shame that thoughts couldn't  
be shouted.   
  
//Don't fret over your soul, dear. Lucifer has already eaten it.\\  
  
Her eyes grew wide in disbelief. //What do you want me to do?\\  
  
//You will be the first vampire in history with no sire, except the original, of course.   
Pure blood will flow through your veins. You will have the power of a goddess. No stake  
will kill you.\\  
  
//Why?\\  
  
//We are planning war.\\  
  
//Against who?\\  
  
//Against heaven.\\ She felt it leave.  
  
She didn't speak. Somehow, she didn't care. It sounded fine to her. She would be going  
home, stronger than before. What's not to like about that? She grinned.  
  
She saw the lava coming.  
  
She sighed in vexation as the red-hot liquid oozed closer and closer, surrounding her,  
finally burying her in a world of complete blackness.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Ah. Bonjour Monseigneur. J'ai recu des nouvelles importantes recemment.. T'as deja les  
entendus, je crois." (Good day, my Lord. I've just received the important news.. you   
already know of them, I believe.) So spoke a blond man, sitting down at a table at the   
Bronze. He had the appearance of a 30 year-old business man, for he wore a blue shirt  
and tie, and carried a black briefcase.  
  
The man to whom he spoke gave him a grim smile. He looked young, perhaps in his   
mid-twenties, and his appearance was soft, lenient. His looks were not particular in any  
way, he was, in fact, rather plain looking, but his air was that of one of great importance  
and power. His hair was a golden-brown, and his eyes were-- a whole spectrum of colours,  
a purple-blue flecked with gold and orange and green. If you looked into them, you could  
drown in them, drown in his world and his history.   
  
For he had witnessed the world's creation and would be present for its demise.  
  
"Michel." (Michael.) He said, shaking the older man's hand. "Oui, j'ai entendu les   
nouvelles au sujet de l'Une qui est Choisis." (Yes, I've heard the news about the Chosen  
One.) He shook his head sadly. "Ils travaillent vite." (They work fast.)  
  
They spoke in French, lest anyone hear their conversation and ask questions.  
  
"Oui, et il faut qu'on travaille plus vite encore. Qu'est-ce qu'on va faire, Dylan?" (Yes,  
but we must work faster yet. What are we going to do, Dylan?) Said Michael. He was  
worried. The girl was of great importance to the balance of the Earth.  
  
"Il faut la trouver avant elle peut causer des dommages. Elle peut etre persuade a joigner  
notre cote, si on l'attrape au debut. Vous devez comprendre qu'elle est la cle. La cote  
qui la possesse a la cle a la victoire." (We must find her before she causes any damage.  
She can be persuaded to join our side if we catch her early. You must understand that she  
is the Key. Whichever side she choses will have the Key to Victory.) Dylan replied.  
  
Michael smiled weakly. "Donc tu veux qu'on la trouve, mais ne pas la tue?" (So you want  
us to find her, but not kill her?)  
  
"Precisement." (Precisely.) Dylan got up. "Je pense qu'on est fini pour maintenant. S'il  
y a les problemes, m'appelez immediatement." (I think we are done for now. If there are  
any problems, call me immediately.)  
  
"Oui, Monseigneur." (Yes, my Lord.)  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
When she woke her surroundings were still black. She felt around her, realizing that she  
was in a coffin. At first, she began to panic, knowing that the coffin would be air-tight.  
Then she remembered that she didn't need to breathe.   
  
With a kick the top of the coffin splintered and she pulled herself up and out, clawing   
through the graveyard dirt. In relief she found that she was fully clothed, in her best  
dress-- a semi-formal white gown that reached her ankles.   
  
She smiled at the stars. She could feel her power. Her senses were extraordinary. She  
could hear the ants scurrying in the dirt 50 feet away.  
  
She couldn't wait for her first kill. Some pathetic human to test her powers on.  
  
She walked towards the Bronze and on the way, she saw a tall, muscular young man waiting at  
the bus stop. She tapped his shoulder and chuckled inwardly as he fell off-balance with her  
touch. She wanted to test it some more, to see if she could control it.   
  
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, clapping her hand to her mouth.  
  
"Er.. No problem." He said. "I'm Dave." He held out his hand.  
  
"Buffy." She smiled, shaking it, pleased that her grip seemed normal when she willed it to  
be so.   
  
"Hi." Dave said. "I've seen you around before. Do you go to Sunnydale University?"  
  
"I did. Then I kinda dropped out after my mom died. I had to take care of my sister and  
everything."  
  
"Oh. Well I'm sorry. Um.." He was nervous. This girl was so beautiful, so mysterious,  
er.. why did she have dirt in her hair? "So, uh, Buffy--"  
  
He didn't get a chance to finish. She punched him lighty in the stomach and he went flying  
into the brick wall behind him, making a hole and falling into the building. She reached  
in and pulled him out by his hair.  
  
"You were gonna make a move, weren't ya? You though, oh, it's so sad, this girl's mother  
died, I better comfort her, didn't ya?" She laughed, vamping out.   
  
He screamed in horror, seeing her demonic face.  
  
"No one's gonna hear you. Even if they did, no one would care. How can you expect them to   
care? That would be selfish." She bit into his neck as he cried.  
  
His warm, sticky lifeblood was delicious. She felt him fall limp beneath her but she   
continued to feed off of his lifeless body, revelling in his sweetness, his innocence.  
  
When she was satisfied she let him drop to the cement ground.  
  
She looked down at her hands, covered in mortal blood, and grinned.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Spike was bloody tired of this town! The Slayer was dead, for goodness sakes! Why was he  
still here? Nibblet was gone too. She had simply ceased to exist.   
  
He scowled. Dru was right. He was getting soft. What was the point of being all good?  
Everyone he loved was gone. Everyone he was good for. All that was left was the Scooby  
Gang, and they still hated him.   
  
Those idiots! What was wrong with them? Hadn't he proved himself enough? Hadn't he saved  
their lives countless times? He had kept his promise to Buffy to look after Dawn. It   
wasn't his fault the monks decided that she was no longer needed!  
  
His chip had been removed. He could kill now. He smiled at the thought of fresh blood.  
  
God, he hadn't fed off real humans for two years.   
  
He strolled out of the cemetery and down the street. At a bus stop he spotted a petite   
blond vampire feeding off a college student.   
  
He smiled. That was the way things were supposed to be. Vampires were bad. They fed off  
humans. The Slayer tried to kill vampires. No good vampires, no bad Slayers, no Slayers  
falling in love with vampires, no vampires falling in love with Slayers.  
  
Simple black and white lines.  
  
"Hello, cutie." He said in his sexiest voice to the blonde as she dropped the boy's body.  
  
He wondered who she was. New master vamp in town? He hoped so.  
  
She turned around, and his eyes went wide.  
  
"Buffy?" He breathed in disbelief.  
  
  
* * *  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! I'll only continue if people are liking it..  
  
  



	2. Red Walls

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: The Gift  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
  
  
  
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 1  
--------------------------  
  
  
"Buffy?? Buffy!" He stared for a moment at her petite figure, eyes running over her hair  
and her face to her ankles and feet. It was her. He started gallopping over to her.  
  
She smiled wickedly, teeth dripping with the blood of her first kill, first human tasted.  
She stood there, arms crossed, cocking her head to one side. "Spike." She grinned.   
"Missed your Slayer, have you?" She licked her teeth and he envied the boy, even if he  
was drained and dead, because he had felt her teeth in his neck.  
  
He was too happy for words. He pulled her slim body into a tight embrace, pressing her   
against his chest so hard that were she human, she would have suffocated. He never wanted  
to let her go, his beloved Princess, in fear that should he ever lose sight of her, she  
would disappear into the depths of nothingness once more.  
  
He panted for unneeded breath as she pulled away. "Oh God, Buffy, I've missed you. Are you  
a vampire? How?" He was completely dazed. He blinked a few times and shook himself like  
a wet dog, convinced that he was dreaming.  
  
She chuckled. "Yes." She said, spreading her hands. "Well wouldn't you know? I'm one of  
you now." She poked his nose playfully as she said this. "How? It's kind of a long   
story. One moment I was in this weird world, floating in air, and the next I was sucked  
into Hell. My demon was inserted into my body, or something like that. They're planning  
something." She shrugged, still laughing. "What about you, William the Bloody? How's the  
old chip?"  
  
He didn't understand what she was saying but he nodded vigorously anyways. Just being with  
her was so exhilerating. "It's out." He said gleefully. God, he just wanted to jump for  
joy. Buffy was back! And she was bad!   
  
She smiled, nodding in satisfaction. She put a hand to his chest, running her fingers over  
the hard, tight muscles of his lean but compact body.  
  
He leaned forward and kissed her. When he felt her kissing him back with the same ferocity,  
he grinned and pulled her face closer, his hands caressing her flushed cheek. He slipped  
his cold tongue between her teeth and tasted her victim's blood, exploring the cavities  
and knots of her mouth.  
  
To his amazement, it was he who pulled away first. The taste of the boy's blood had   
re-awakened his bloodthirst and he licked his lips in anticipation of his first kill since  
the chip.  
  
"What do you say we go somewhere on a little spree, pick ourselves some ripe humans to eat?"  
He asked seductively, running his hands through her golden honey hair like he had always  
wanted to, the way he did in his dreams.  
  
She grinned evilly, taking his pale hand into hers, and they walked towards the Bronze.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Giles was flipping through the new volume of New World prophecies when he heard a knock at   
his door. He looked at his watch. It was already two in the morning. He set down his   
glasses and walked towards the door, not liking the feeling he was getting. "Is that you  
Willow?" He called, receiving no answer.  
  
The knocking continued.  
  
Giles looked into the spyhole of his door, and seeing a young man dressed in a business  
suit and tie, picked up a stake and opened the door a crack.  
  
"Who are you and what do you want?" He growled, pressing the wooden weapon's point to the  
man's chest.  
  
The man raised his eyebrows in annoyance. "My name is Peter. I was sent here by higher   
forces to guide you." He rolled his eyes at the stake at his chest. "That stake won't  
kill me." He scoffed.  
  
"Wanna bet?" Giles asked menacingly. He didn't trust this man with an attitude problem.  
  
"Whatever. You can threaten me all you like, but if you want this world to still exist in  
three months, you'd do well consult page 562 of that book. Good day." And he left,  
shaking his head and straightening his tie.  
  
Giles looked after him, eyes narrowed. He took the book he had been skimming through and  
flipped to the page the man had indicated. There was a picture of a great phoenix being  
reborn.   
  
"She who Slayed, once the Princess of Light, shall fall into Inferno and when she arises,   
she shall become the Princess of Darkness. The worlds will fall together and balance will   
be lost, and the war of overworld and underwold will rage. Four doves will hide among the   
land of mortals, one of these being the Prince of Light, as will four ravens, one of these   
being the Prince of Darkness. Six shall perish. Should the Slayer's wisdom call upon the   
creatures of Conflux, the bird of the sun will turn the Princess' eye inward so it looks   
upon herself, and balance shall be restored." Giles read.   
  
He was completey and utterly confused.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"My Lord, the message has been delivered." Said Peter, scowling.  
  
"It didn't go well then?" Dylan asked, smiling.  
  
"He was very uncooperative. He tried to kill me with a stake!" Peter chuckled. "He didn't  
even believe me when I told him no stake would kill me."  
  
Dylan chuckled too. "Nevermind. He'll see in time. He is very important."  
  
Just then another man walked in. "My Lord! We have very bad news." The third man said  
nervously.   
  
Dylan looked at him, raising his eyebrow. "So she has made her first kill already?"   
  
"Yes, my Lord. We weren't able to reach her in time. We would have captured her but she  
is very strong now, so we decided to report to you first."  
  
Dylan furrowed his brow. He was not one to worry, but he worried now. It was not every  
day that the balance of Heaven and Hell was threatened. "What is wrong with Lucifer and   
his bastards? He thinks he can win now that he has her." He rubbed his forhead with his  
middle and index finger.  
  
"My Lord, the Forces of Evil can never win over the Forces of Good--"  
  
"But they can Thomas!" Dylan said, slamming his hand down onto the desk a little too hard,  
cutting the table in two. "Everyone thinks that Good is right, and Evil is wrong, but the  
truth is--" He sighed. "The truth is they are equivalent. Good is no better. Humans  
mistake the word 'Good' as something normal, they don't understand that without one the   
other is nothing. No one would want to live in a Good world, Thomas, they really wouldn't.  
Just like they wouldn't want to live in a Bad world. And now the balance could be  
destroyed."   
  
Thomas was shocked. He said nothing.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Buffy giggled drunkenly as she pinned Spike to the door of his crypt. Spike was equally  
wasted as he snorted and tried to kiss her, only to miss and kiss her nose instead.  
  
"That boy.. ah, he was one innocent likkle boy." Buffy laughed. "Can you imagine that?  
21 and still a mamma's boy." She snorted.   
  
"Yeah." Said Spike absently. "Hmm.. his blood was nummy though."  
  
"Yeah." She whispered, biting his ear playfully.  
  
She pulled him into the building and onto the bed.  
  
And she promptly fell asleep with loud snores.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"My Lady." Came a voice.  
  
Buffy spun around to see a dashing young man with black hair and striking blue eyes. She  
was in a dark room with red walls and the floor-- the floor was quite strange. When she  
took a step she could feel it beneath her, and she could hear the click of it against her  
shoe, and yet when her eyes looked at it, it appeared to be.. not there.  
  
"Where am I?" She breathed.  
  
The man smiled saucily. "This is a dream. Didn't you know that? This one just happens to  
be one that I've sent you."  
  
"Who are you?" She narrowed her eyes.  
  
He offered his hand. "I call myself Lucifer."  
  
Her eyes opened wide. "Oh! My Lord. I'm sorry." She continued stammering. "It's just-  
well, I expected you to be, you know, more red.. and you know.. have horns."  
  
He chuckled. "I look however I want. This is just the form a take on Earth. Why, do you  
not like it?" His icy blue eyes twinkled. He was amused.  
  
"No! I mean I like it! It's great!" She blushed. He was very attractive, in fact.  
  
He cleared his throat. "I am here on business. We have devised the plan, and we have  
decided to take action immediately. The Angelic Alliance has already been informed of you,  
and they will be looking for you. They may try and kill you. Then again, they may try to   
capture you and convert you. We are not sure yet."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"There are rebel Angels who have come to us, offering information. They are working on the  
inside at the moment. There are five of them for now. They might be able to persuade   
others.   
  
"So far they have told us that three angels and the Archangel are currently on Earth,   
looking for you."  
  
"Archangel?"  
  
"You know him as God."  
  
Her mouth formed an 'O'.  
  
"Your job is to kill all four angels."  
  
Her eyes widened once more. "What??" She exclaimed in anger. "You want me to kill FOUR  
ANGELS? INCLUDING GOD?" She thought for a moment. "Wait a minute. God is an angel?"  
  
"Yes." Said Lucifer. "He is the Archangel. Like I am the Archdevil."  
  
"Huh." She said, defiantly.  
  
"You have to understand that the Church exaggerates much. God did not create the universe.  
He was the original angel. He created life, but he cannot control it. He is powerful, yes,   
but not invincible."  
  
"Oh?" She asked sarcastically. Raising her eyebrow lazily.  
  
"You must look for them. You must be very cunning. They are smart, virtually   
indestructable. The only way to kill them is rip off their wings or burn them."  
  
"They have wings?"  
  
"Not in human form. Which is why you will have to burn them unless they reveal themselves,  
which is higly unlikely, since the best plan of attack will be surprise. They can read  
minds. Just like I. They can sense trickery and treachery."  
  
"What about the rebel angels? Won't they be discovered?"   
  
Lucifer smiled. "That is not my problem. They are only angels."  
  
"How will I find them?"  
  
"At the moment we don't know. But our spies should tell us soon. There are three devils  
on Earth too, with me. That way our forces are fair, I should think." He smirked.  
  
"What will He look like? Like the opposite of you?"  
  
"God?" He scoffed. "No. He'll be very plain. The idiot will be careful to not attract  
attention."  
  
She pursed her lips, thinking.  
  
"You must wake up now. I will visit you again soon, and others may too. Look outside. I  
have a gift for you."  
  
And he disappeared in a ball of flames.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
She woke dizzily. She remembered her dream clearly. And she remembered her hangover.  
She groaned.  
  
She walked out of the crypt, looking warily at the morning sky.  
  
She walked into the sunlight.  
  
She smiled. She did not burn.   
  
  
* * *  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
FEEDBACK PLEASE!  
  
This story will only be continued if my "fans" want it to be! 


	3. Princess of Darkness

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
AN: In my version, "Epiphany" never happened, although "Redefinition" did. Angel lost  
his soul with Darla, so now the three of them are together in LA.  
  
AN2: To Buffysummersslayer: Sorry, no Angel.. Angelus instead! How's that?  
  
  
  
  
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 2  
-------------------------------------  
  
  
Buffy smiled at the glorious sun, putting a hand over her brow to shadow her eyes. She  
giggled a little, thinking how the Devil sure knew how to please a girl.  
  
She twirled around, dancing, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light.   
  
It was strange. They didn't adjust.  
  
Perhaps because they were dead.  
  
She sighed and went back to Spike.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Hi Anya," Willow smiled as she stepped into the magic shop. "Where's Giles?"  
  
"He's in the back. Like always. Studying a book." Anya smiled brightly. "He's ever so  
boring."  
  
"Willow?" Giles came out to the front desk. "I need your help. It's very important."  
He looked tired. His spectacles sat on his nose in a crooked position and his hair was  
very ruffled.  
  
"Giles? What's wrong? You look awful!" Exclaimed Willow.   
  
"Yes, well thank you." He said, slightly peeved. "Yesterday a man came to my house. He  
was definitely not human, so naturally I thought he was a vampire. I opened the door and  
put a stake to his chest. He said he was sent by higher powers to guide me."  
  
Willow bit her lip. "Where is he now?"  
  
"I sent him away." Giles said, shamefacedly. At Willow's look he went on the defensive.  
"He had a really bad attitude!"  
  
"What else did he say?"  
  
"He told me to look at page 562 of my book." He said, handing Willow the tome he was   
speaking of.  
  
"And what's on that page?" She asked, flipping through to 562.  
  
"A prophecy."  
  
"Hmm. Here." She said triumphantly as she found the article. "She who Slayed, once the   
Princess of Light, shall fall into Inferno and when she arises, she shall become the   
Princess of Darkness. The worlds will fall together and balance will be lost, and the war   
of overworld and underwold will rage. Four doves will hide among the land of mortals, one   
of these being the Prince of Light, as will four ravens, one of these being the Prince of   
Darkness. Six shall perish. Should the Slayer's wisdom call upon the creatures of Conflux,  
the bird of the sun will turn the Princess' eye inward so it looks upon herself, and   
balance shall be restored." She glanced at Giles expectantly. "Do you know what it means?"  
  
"That's why I needed your help. I've got pieces. Maybe you've got the others?" Giles  
asked hopefully. "I know they are talking about Buffy. I think it means she'll be   
resurrected."  
  
Willow shook her head. "This isn't good. Inferno is Hell. She'll go to Hell and she'll  
come back as the Princess of Darkness."  
  
"What's the Princess of Darkness?"  
  
Willow gulped. "Well Satan is the Prince of Darkness.. so.."  
  
Giles' eyes grew wide. "Dear God."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Angelus was bored. Drusilla was talking to her dolls, and Darla was gone to god knows where  
with Lindsey. The boy bothered him. It was clear he was in love with Darla, the idiot.  
  
Suddenly Drusilla looked up and smiled wickedly. "There's a stranger in the house. She's  
*very* wicked." She rolled her eyes and swayed.  
  
"Who's in the house?" Angelus asked suspiciously. "An enemy?"  
  
Drusilla laughed hysterically, pulling at her dark hair. She licked her blood-red lips  
seductively. "She wants us to play. She says Princess is back."  
  
"Where is She? Who's Princess?" Angelus frowned.  
  
"She's not here yet. Shh.. She's coming. She's coming." She shifted her eyes in a feline  
fashion. "The Slayer. Princess is the Slayer. She's one of us." Dru said happily,  
clapping her hands in excitement like a young child.  
  
"Buffy? Buffy's a vampire? Interesting." He mused.  
  
Suddenly there was a ball of flames and Angelus had to pull Drusilla out of the way to   
avoid her being burned. To his surprise, nothing was even singed when the fire died,  
revealing a dark-haired woman in a dark business suit.  
  
Angelus growled. He put his game face on.  
  
The woman laughed. She looked about 25, and she was extremely beautiful. "You don't want  
to fight me, Angelus. Not now, not like this. You don't even know who I am."  
  
"All right then. Who are you?" He scowled.  
  
"My name's Kalika." She smiled, flashing two rows of perfect white teeth. She held out her  
hand. "And you, I assume, are Angelus."  
  
He didn't take her hand. "You're right. I am Angelus. Now tell me what you are and why  
you're here and I promise I won't kill you."  
  
Her eyes flashed. "Bit cocky, aren't we? I don't believe you can kill me. You see, I'm  
here to ask for your help. And- I'm a devil." She smiled at him.  
  
He frowned. "You're the Devil? Isn't he male?"  
  
Drusilla spoke. "Shh.. Silly Daddy. She's not THE devil, she's A devil. She's come to  
give us an army."  
  
"Yes. We are going to give you a small army to help you, but first, has anyone contacted  
you yet? Any strange men or women sort of like me, but not?"  
  
"No." Angelus was confused.  
  
"She means the Doves." Drusilla whispered.  
  
Kalika smiled. "That's good. They will be looking for you. They will try to kill you,  
so you must look out. I would advise your group to return to the Hellmouth.  
  
"Once you arrive I will contact you. We have arranged a living area for you, and there,  
more vampires we've recruited will join you. They will serve you. In the mean time you  
must stay hidden and not attract any attention whatsoever.  
  
"Also, we have given you, Drusilla, and Darla gifts. You will no longer burn in sunlight  
which means you will start travelling right away. Also, we have given each of you  
extraordinary powers.  
  
"Remember that you are not invincible so if these, Doves, as she calls them," Kalika  
motioned to Dru, "Find you, do not stay to fight. Run."  
  
"What? You can't just come here and tell us what to do! We don't even know what's going  
on!" Angelus was furious.  
  
"What's going on is there will be war. Against Heaven and Hell, and it will take place  
at the Hellmouth. In Sunnydale. We need everyone we can get. If Heaven wins, we become  
extinct. That includes vampires."   
  
There was another ball of fire and she left.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Glory was disgusted.  
  
She was feeling claustrophobic.  
  
Everything was dark. She felt around. 'Oh great,' She thought. 'Coffins.' She elbowed  
the side and the stone collapsed.  
  
'Good.' She shifted out the side into the dirt. 'I'm gonna kill someone!' She thought  
in a singsong voice. 'Someone's gonna pay for ruining my new dress and shoes. They're  
Versace, for goodness sakes!'  
  
She groaned as she clawed through the dark soil.  
  
She was out! She dragged herself out of her grave and shook of the dirt. 'Eww...'  
  
Oh yes, someone was *definitely* gonna pay for this.  
  
"Wait a minute." She said outloud. "I'm alive! I'm not dead! I'm alive!"  
  
She grinned.  
  
"Hey you!" She called to a boy who was staring at her. "What are you looking at? Huh?"  
  
"Uh.. nothing." He froze, eyes the size of lightbulbs. He wanted desperately to run but  
somehow his legs were stuck in one place.  
  
"Didn't anyone teach you any manners? Number one, no staring at people when they climb  
out of their graves. Number two, *look* at people when you're speaking to them!" She  
grabbed the boy by the chin.  
  
The boy looked at her, blinking several times and shaking in fear.  
  
"Now." Glory said, very calmly. "You are going to tell me, what day, month and year it is.  
Okay? You're gonna be a good little boy and tell me the date."  
  
"It's.. it's.. uh.. July 19th, ma'am.. 2001." He stammered.  
  
"Huh." She said. "Wow. I've been dead for more than a month. Haha!" She studied the  
boy's features. "Hmm.. you look like a good meal. What do you say, huh?"  
  
The boy looked frantically around at the people on the street.  
  
Glory laughed. "They won't help you. I'll just kill them. Don't worry. I won't kill you.  
You get to live. How's that?" She asked giddily.  
  
He nodded his head quickly.  
  
She smiled. And plunged her fingers into his head.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Spike woke at midday, noticing a blond vampire beside him. 'Well that was normal.' He  
thought. What confused him was that they were both fully clothed.  
  
And then he remembered last night.   
  
Buffy.  
  
God, he wanted her so badly. Not just physically. He wanted her love.  
  
It made him sad. She might be a vampire now but she was still the same. Untouchable.  
What was wrong with these bleedin' women? They all wanted to change him. His love was  
never enough.  
  
No one ever saw the real him. He was always out of the loop. The third wheel. His whole  
life and unlife- all the same.  
  
First was Cecily. The bitch didn't respect him for what he was. And then Dru. God, the  
memories of Dru still pained him. They said vampires couldn't love. Well then what would  
they call that, huh? He had spent a century with her, with no other. He was faithful. He  
gave her her heart's desire. He put up with her madness. If that wasn't love, what was it?  
  
Even so, she left him.  
  
And Buffy. Sometimes he wanted to beat her to pulp, torture her into lunacy, for what she  
did to him. Why was she such a bitch? He tried to do everything for her. It's the  
thought that counts, isn't what they say?   
  
Dru had wanted Spike to be bad, so he was bad. He had loved her, even if he was just a   
fill-in for Angelus.  
  
Buffy wanted him to be good, so he was good. And he had loved her too, only to insulted  
and beaten and tortured every fucking day.  
  
And the new Buffy. She would want the bad Spike, wouldn't she? 'I'll bloody well give her  
bad.' He spat.  
  
He knew he would. He would do anything she told him to. She had him wrapped around her  
little finger and he couldn't pull away.  
  
She held him so utterly and completely, but she would never belong to him.  
  
She would make him say that he loved her, that he belonged to her, that he would never love  
another. And he would say it, and she would smile, and hold him, but she would never  
consider saying those words back.  
  
She would leave the next day, never calling, never writing, and he would believe that he   
would never see her again. And then, one day, she would come back, opening the wound in his  
heart because she needed someone to hold. And he would *still* love her.   
  
He knew this. It was completely her.  
  
Sometimes he hated love.  
  
Once she had asked him whether he did those good deeds out of the goodness of his heart or  
to impress her.   
  
It was to win her. Everything he did was to win her.  
  
He was a vampire.  
  
There was no goodness in his heart.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
PLEASE REVIEW! Let me know what you think, and any ideas, suggestions...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Extra-curricular Activities

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
  
  
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 3  
----------------------------  
  
  
"Willow, calm down." Giles' mind was panicking himself but he couldn't let the others see  
it. He held out a hand to steady the red-haired wiccan.  
  
"Giles! How can you tell me to calm down? Buffy is coming back! She's going to be evil!"  
Willow was furious. How could this happen? Her head was spinning and tears somehow found  
their path down her flushed cheeks. She was nauseous. "Oh God. I have to sit down."  
She swayed a little, her vision blurred by both queasiness and salty tears.  
  
Giles pulled out a chair from behind a desk and sat Willow down on it. "Willow. There's  
nothing we can do. But we must decipher the rest of the prophecy."  
  
She nodded quickly, ashamed at her weakness. "Okay. Okay." She breathed deeply.  
  
"Right. Four doves and four ravens. Do you understand that?" Giles asked.   
  
"Light versus dark. Imagery." Willow said carefully, trying to remember something she'd  
heard her literature teacher say about Shakespeare... "Contrast."  
  
"Okay." Giles breathed. "Well the Devil, as you say, will be among the ravens, so I'm  
thinking the ravens are representatives of Hell. Therefore, the doves are representatives  
of Heaven."  
  
Willow nodded, inhaling deeply.  
  
"I don't understand the next part though, and something tells me it's the most important.  
The Slayer's wisdom will call upon the creatures of Conflux. I've never heard of Conflux  
before.."  
  
"Neither have I. But I think the bird of the sun.. a phoenix maybe?"  
  
Giles nodded. "Yes. That would make sense. There's a picture of a phoenix here." He   
pointed to the illustration of the giant bird.  
  
"So the phoenix will make everything right again?" Willow asked hopefully.  
  
"Only if the Slayer's wisdom calls the creatures of Conflux, and I have no idea what that  
means."  
  
Willow bit her lip again. "Do we know what turning the Princess' eye inward means?"  
  
Giles sighed. "No."  
  
"Atleast it's a start." She was quiet for a moment. "Giles--" She didn't finish, because   
she choked on the words and felt tears renewing themselves.  
  
"Yes Willow?"  
  
"If.. If we find Buffy again, this new.." She fought hard to pronounce the words. "Evil..  
Buffy, what do we do? Do we kill her?"  
  
Giles looked at her sympathetically. He knew the question was coming and he didn't know  
how to deal with it himself. "No." He said quietly. "But not because she is our friend  
anymore. Because she will be very powerful, especially if they say she is Princess of  
Darkness. I don't want anyone to get hurt."  
  
"Okay." She whispered, slightly relieved. She never wanted to see her best friend die   
again, even if it was the evil, soul-less Buffy. It was too painful.  
  
"I'll call Xander and tell him about what we've discovered."   
  
"Yeah. Okay." Willow left the store, covering her face with her hands. It was impossible,  
but secretly, she would give anything to see Buffy alive- even undead.  
  
She was ashamed of her selfishness.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Peter." Dylan said. His tone was one of annoyance. "Peter, I've hear that several angels  
are.. engaging in.. extracurricular activities." He sat in his office behind a new desk.  
  
Peter sighed. "Yes. It's horrendous, really. It's rather hard to believe that fellow   
angels would do such a thing."  
  
Dylan nodded sadly. "How much damage have they done?"  
  
"Lucifer already knows of our location and situation. And.." Peter gulped. The news was  
very disturbing. "They've killed seven good angels already, ones that refused to join them.  
Yesterday Lawrence was found bleeding under a cliff. His wings were brutally torn off. The  
whole area was painted in his silver blood." He whispered, shuddering at the thought. "He   
died only a few seconds after they found him. His wings were found at the top of the cliff,  
the feathers strewn everywhere."  
  
"Are we sure it was the rebel angels?"  
  
"No. We have no proof. But there are other cases. Amanda had her throat slit."  
  
Dylan closed his eyes. There was no doubt, then. Only fellow angels could kill their kind  
by means other than fire or clipping of the wings. "We will have to move to another office.  
We must be even more careful than before. Knowing Lucifer, he will have sent four devils  
including himself down here, just to even the score."  
  
"My Lord, what do you propose we do about the angels though?" Peter asked worriedly. He   
had never seen his master so sad.  
  
"Capture them and execute them."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Darla was poking through files in Lindsey's apartment. He had gone to buy her dinner, the   
fool. She didn't want human food, but the stupid fool had insisted they share some time  
together.  
  
She laughed. He thought they were on a date.  
  
She dearly hoped he wasn't in love with her. He pretended to be tough, to be bad, but in  
reality, he was as naive as a baby. He was only human, after all.  
  
The sun wasn't down yet but she wanted to leave before he came home, or else he would want  
her to stay, and she would have to hurt him. Something that she didn't want to do, for  
some inexplicable reason.  
  
She was taken to the boy.  
  
She reached out and put her hand into the sliver of sunlight which peeked out from between  
the curtains of his window. She enjoyed pain. She did this often, just to feel it burning  
her skin, just to feel her demon fighting her within.  
  
But this time, nothing happened.  
  
Her head shot up in horror. Oh God, she thought desperately. She was scared that she was  
human again.   
  
She listened for her heartbeat and she heard none. Then she realized that were she human,   
she wouldn't be able to hear it. Her mind raced.   
  
Clutching her head in terror she ran to Lindsey's bathroom and collapsed in relief as she  
saw no reflexion in his mirror.  
  
After a minute she got up again and opened the curtains, letting the golden rays of the sun  
hit her face. Suddenly she began laughing, thinking of how this was a great opportunity.  
She grabbed a duffel bag from Lindsey's closet and began to pack away all her clothes and   
accessories. There wasn't much.  
  
Darla smiled as she swung the bag over her shoulder and unlocked the door and stepped out   
into the hall like a runaway child, giggling.  
  
She had to find Angelus.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"My Lord?" Thomas poked his head into the room. "Mr. Quentin Travers would like to speak  
with you."  
  
"Ah yes," said Dylan. "We have an appointment."  
  
"Should I let him in then?"  
  
Dylan nodded, and Mr. Travers came in. He was resolved sort of man, one who knew his job  
might be dirty but did it anyways, because it was his purpose.  
  
"Lord Ambrosius," He said, bowing, not entirely sure how to address the Archangel.  
  
Dylan made a face. "Ack. Just call me Dylan. Ambrosius is all too revealing, you know?"  
  
Mr. Travers did not know and gave a confused look.  
  
"Ambrosius, in Roman, means Prince of Light."  
  
"Ah." Said the head of the Watcher's Council.  
  
Dylan gave him a kind smile. "The reason you are here today is we need to know the   
situation of the current Chosen One."  
  
He blanched. The current Slayer was quite an embarrassment. "Faith, the only active   
Slayer, is in jail at the moment." He said meekly.  
  
The other man nodded, sighing. "You must understand that at these times we are in need of  
a Slayer. I'm not just talking about your regular apocalypse here, you know. Not an  
apocalypse of Earth. I'm saying that either Heaven or Hell will be destroyed."  
  
Travers was shaking.  
  
"That means, Quentin, that you will either have to get her out of prison or destroy her.   
Do you understand? And it has to be done by tomorrow."  
  
"Yes.. Dylan." He said awkwardly. He shifted in his seat.   
  
  
* * *  
  
  
When Buffy woke again, it was nearly dark. She reached out for Spike, her hands swimming   
over his red, silken sheets like a fish squirming in an ocean of warm blood.  
  
She was disappointed when she realized he was not there. Sighing, she sat up and swung  
her still-golden legs over the side of his bed. She was still dressed in the white gown  
and she scowled, because it reminded her of her pathetic human life. She needed new  
clothes, she thought. She needed a new style that fit her new personality. Something  
sexy and mysterious. Something over the edge.  
  
She slipped on her shoes and ran her fingers through her honey-hued hair, trying to untangle  
the knots. She noticed Spike sitting on the couch watching the television and walked over  
to him in a sexy gait. "What are you doing?" She whispered into his ear seductively from  
behind, letting her tresses fall over his head, tickling his face.  
  
She expected him to make a lewd remark, but his face remained like stone.  
  
She looked at him quizzically but he said nothing and continued to watch some cooking show,  
failing to acknowledge her presence. He wasn't going to let himself be lured into her trap.  
She didn't really want *him*, he knew. She just wanted sex, and he happened to be the  
only available man at the moment.   
  
He stared straight ahead.  
  
She was confused. Wasn't this what he wanted? To have her? She looked at him with  
hurt eyes and made a puppy face. "What's wrong, Spike?" She said gently, touching his  
face with her silky hands.  
  
He fought with himself to regain control. God, this woman was an actress. She could get  
her own show, he thought bitterly.  
  
She walked over to the front of the couch and sat onto his lap. She put her fingers onto  
his chest and kissed him hard.   
  
At first he longed to kiss her back and he did, tasting her mouth tenderly with his tongue.  
  
He stopped suddenly, disgusted with himself. This was exactly where she wanted him to be.  
He shoved her off of him and she fell onto the floor in a heap. He spat the taste of her,  
blood mixed with liquor, out onto the floor.  
  
She looked and laughed. "Is that how you want to play?" She asked, sprawled out on the   
cold gray stone floor. The strap of her dress had fallen off her shoulder leaving her neck  
area bare. One look at her made him want to devour her right then and there.  
  
She saw the look and laughed more. "Come on, Spike. This is what you want."  
  
God, the temptation. "No." He said coldly, like cracked winter ice. "*This* is not what  
I want."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "What do you want then, Spike?" She shouted. "You want me to tell  
you that I love you? You want me to tell you that I'll love you forever? That- That I'll  
spend the rest of eternity by your side?" She gestured wildly, anger flashing in her  
emerald eyes. "What if I don't?"  
  
Her words hurt him but he refused to show it. "Then don't do this." He began to walk away.  
  
"Spike, don't pretend you love me, because you *don't*." She said, her teeth clenched.  
  
"You never understand, do you?" He shook his head sadly. "I'll always love you, Buffy, no  
matter where you are what you do. I can't help it. I can't change it. I want you, yes,  
but I don't want to be just your shagging partner. I don't just want it to be a one-night  
deal." He looked away.  
  
"Then understand that this is what I need, Spike. I'm a vampire now. I don't have a soul,  
and I don't have a heart like you. This is all I can give you."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
I NEED FEEDBACK!  
  
Give me ideas, guys! please?  
  
AN: In this last chapter I wrote:  
Buffysummersslayer: no angel, angelus instead!  
  
But really, I mixed up two of the reviews, and it wasn't Buffysummersslayer who wanted Angel  
in it, it was Lisa. So sorry if it caused anybody any confusion! :)  
  
  
  
  



	5. Pass to Heaven

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
AN: Thanx, Soli, for the being injected with Holy water idea  
  
  
  
  
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 4  
-------------------------------  
  
  
"Surprise," Darla said bewitchingly at Angelus' window, under the full glare of the sun.  
  
"Darla, pack up your things, we have to go back to the Hellmout, NOW." Said Angelus,   
pulling her into the house.  
  
"Aren't you going to ask why we aren't burning?" Darla asked, frowning.  
  
"No. I already know. This woman named Kalika came to see me. We've been given gifts.  
Now we have to return to the Hellmouth."  
  
She looked at him in disbelief. "We're leaving because some woman gave you a gift?"  
  
"She's not any woman, Darla, she's a devil. She was sent here by Lucifer and we are going  
help them."  
  
"Why? Why should we help them?" She was furious. "How do you know she's a devil anyways?"  
  
"Look. She came and left in flames. I think that means something. We have to help them  
kill the Doves, or something like that."  
  
Darla rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever. I already have my duffel bag. I only have a few  
other things." She moved to the closet and stuffed her belongings into a tote.  
  
"Good. Let's go."   
  
"Miss Edith enjoys the sun." Drusilla spoke up.   
  
"That's nice, Dru." Darla said, annoyed. "Are we leaving or what?"  
  
Angelus nodded and the three of them stepped out into the sun.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
She knew it was just an excuse.  
  
She knew she had a heart, and that if she tried, she was capable of loving.  
  
But she was afraid of trying.  
  
She was afraid to let herself fall in love. There was nothing to stop her anymore: no  
friends, no vampire-slayer codes of conduct. There was only herself, and she held on to it  
with her un-life.  
  
She had touched the stars once, and she had let them fall.   
  
She wasn't going to do it again.  
  
She looked up and saw the hurt in his eyes. "Oh Spike, I'm sorry." She whispered. Her  
own eyes were full of sadness and sympathy.  
  
He saw it and snorted to himself. God, he was love's bitch. He was becoming just like his  
old wanker of a sire. "Come on, the sun's set already, let's go somewhere." He said   
stiffly, trying not to let his emotions show.   
  
She nodded and pulled herself up, dusting off her dress. "I need clothes."  
  
"Your house." He remembered. "Everything's still there. It's only been a few weeks."  
He paused for a moment. "Aren't you going to ask about Dawn?"  
  
"Yeah." She said carefully. "What happened to her?"  
  
"The monks took her away. They.. kind of canceled her human form."  
  
"Oh." Was all she managed. Dawn was her sister. She should have felt sad but she didn't.  
It was strange. She should have grieved but she was incapable of that type of emotion.  
  
"Let's go then." He pulled his leather duster over him.  
  
They walked through the cemetery peacefully, in silence. He didn't speak because he had  
nothing left to say, and she didn't speak because she was afraid of what she would say if  
she let her tongue free.  
  
She sensed something wrong, but at first she thought it was only her skittishness. She  
glanced around and when she saw nothing she tried to relax, but the feeling remained.  
  
Suddenly two-- men, it seemed, appeared from the shadows and grabbed Spike. Before she  
could react they had injected him with some sort of transparent liquid.. a sedative, surely.  
She punched one of them in the nose and he reeled backward in pain but the other kicked  
her in the face.  
  
It was not a hard blow, but it was enough to stun her for the moment. Evidently they did  
not intend to harm her.  
  
She got ready to lunge at them again, but in a flash of light, they were gone.  
  
She looked around. They had taken Spike, and left no traces.  
  
And suddenly she was only a little girl again, lost and alone, standing in the midst of  
graves, panting for unneeded breath.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Giles! Giles! I think I've found something!" Willow exclaimed, pleased with herself for  
having accomplished something useful at last.  
  
"Yes Willow? What is it?" Giles answered dully, without looking up from his book.  
  
"It says here that Conflux is a world. A neutral world. Its inhabitants include pixies,  
air elementals, water elementals, fire elementals, and earth elementals." She said proudly.  
"Oh yes, and phoenixes."  
  
"Wow," Giles said. "Where did you come up with that?"  
  
"Internet." Willow smiled smugly.  
  
Giles took off his glasses. "So the Slayer's wisdom will call upon these creatures.. a   
portal, you think? Or ritual?"  
  
"Ritual. It says here that these creatures may be called at the expert level of magic,  
but once one is summoned no other types may be called by the same person."  
  
"Now all we have to do is find the Slayer's wisdom to summon them."  
  
The chimes above the door rang and Anya went to greet the customer. "Hi!" She grinned  
cheerfully. "How may I help you?"  
  
"I'm here to see Rupert Giles." He said coolly.  
  
"Gi-les!" She called in a sing-song voice. "Someone's here to see you!"  
  
Giles emerged from the back to see the same man he had threatened last night.. this morning,  
actually. "Er, good evening," He said uncomfortably. "Sorry, I don't recall your name.."  
  
"Peter." The man said. "As I have previously mentioned, I was supposed to guide you, but  
uncompromising circumstances made it difficult to do so. However, now my Master has sent me  
back, because we are running out of time and obviously you desperately need my help."   
  
Giles was about to open his mouth and tell him that they did *not* desperately need his help  
but he shut it again.   
  
"Who's your Master?" Willow broke in.  
  
"Lord Ambrosius."  
  
"Aha!" Giles exclaimed triumphantly. "Ambrosius means Prince of Light. You must be the   
Doves."  
  
"Yes. We are also called the Angelic Alliance. We are here because Heaven and Hell are  
currently at war."  
  
Giles nodded. "The prophecy."  
  
"The part you two have in it is this: you are the Slayer's wisdom." He gestured to Giles  
and Willow.  
  
"So it's our job to summon the phoenix?" Willow squeaked nervously.  
  
"Exactly. Now I must go. I have many things to look after. Good luck." He turned to  
leave.  
  
"Wait!" Willow blurted. "It says that the spell is at the expert level of magic. And..  
I- I'm not at that level!" She said, embarrassed.  
  
"Oh, but you *are*, Willow." He chuckled. "You have been for some time. You have the  
gift for it. The spell is not complex, there is hardly room for error. However there is  
an ingredient which may be hard to find." He warned.  
  
"Thank you." Giles said. "And sorry about earlier..."  
  
Peter smiled and left the store.  
  
"Ooh! I've found the spell." Willow said as she madly copied all the ingredients down.   
"There are only two ingredients. Flaming rose? And we need something of Buffy's."  
  
"And the spell itself?" Giles asked, worriedly.  
  
"Just a simple incantation. Where are we going to get this flaming rose?"  
  
"I've heard of it before. Let me just check if it's on our suppliers' lists..." He went  
behind the counter and pulled out a fat purple binder labeled 'Magical Flowers and Herbs-  
Supplier List'. He flipped through the pages and, finding the category 'Roses', he ran  
his finger down the page. "Nope." He sighed defeatedly.  
  
"Hmm. Let me check in this book." Willow said, holding up another of Giles' old volumes  
of magical lore.  
  
They racked their brains and their books but came up with nothing.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
When Spike came to, he was lying on soft white featherbed under crisp yellow sheets. His  
arm throbbed where the men had injected him with some liquid.  
  
He looked down and to his horror it was blue. He must have been bleeding internally.   
  
Oh God. He looked away again, sick. It was aching now, like it was eating him from the  
inside. Lord, he needed to get out of here. He got up and searched for a way out, but it  
seemed that there was no door to this room.  
  
It was painted in a sickening clean white.   
  
Great. No doors. God, how did he get in here in the first place?  
  
"Looking for me?" Dylan appeared in a flash of light.  
  
For a moment, Spike was blinded, his undead eyes unused to seeing such brilliance. He   
blinked hard, and when his vision came back he saw a harmless-looking man standing in front   
of him.   
  
He backed away in a corner, growling.  
  
"There's no need for that. You called me."  
  
Spike was bewildered. "Did not."  
  
"But you did. My name is Dylan. I am the Archangel."  
  
The vampire was confused. "Archangel?"  
  
Dylan smiled. "I am who you call God. Of course I'm not all that the Church claims me to   
be, but I am He in any case."  
  
"*You* expect *me* to believe that you are *God*?" Spike laughed. "God is no human."  
  
"You are right. This is my human form." There was, again, another flash of light, and  
a whole new figure stood before him. "I am an angel. This is my truest form." He had  
the same features, except his whole body was brighter. It seemed he was composed of light.   
Two silver-feathered wings spanned out behind him.   
  
He was beauty itself.   
  
Spike was amazed. He stood there with his mouth open for a long while.  
  
"Why have you come for me?" He whispered, he voice breaking.  
  
"Come here." Dylan gently. He took Spike's injured arm and ran his hand over it.   
  
The pain disappeared, as did the swelling and the bruising.  
  
"What was it?" He asked, trembling.  
  
"Holy water. They injected it into you. Lucky for vampires, your blood doesn't circulate,  
so it only affected one part of your body. However, it was burning away at the inside of  
your arm."  
  
Spike nodded.   
  
"I have come to offer you a deal." Said Dylan. "You are intimate with Buffy, are you not?"  
  
"You might say that." Spike sighed.  
  
"Good. Has she ever mentioned the fact that she went to Hell and that forced her demon  
inside of her because they had things planned for her?"  
  
"Yes. Something like that. She said they were planning.. something." He couldn't   
remember.  
  
"They are planning war. Against us. Heaven. What I need you to do is spy on her, give  
us information about the other side. She is working for them--"  
  
"I can't." Spike interrupted. Instantly he felt unprincipled for both denying God a duty  
and for interrupting him. He looked up at the Archangel with pleading eyes. "I can't.  
I love her."  
  
"I understand," Dylan said sympathetically. "I know you love her. But she doesn't know  
what will happen if Hell wins. The balance will be lost. All life will be destroyed and I  
won't be here to start it again. Now. Will you listen to the rest?"  
  
Spike nodded sadly.   
  
"If you do this, if you work on the Good side and Heaven still exists when you die, you will  
be admitted. You will see your family again. Your mother. Your sisters. Joyce." He  
paused. "I'll give you some time, if you'd like."  
  
Was Spike dreaming? He didn't think so. He'd never dreamt like this before, anyways.   
Buffy would never love him. He had to get over that. But his sisters had loved him, as had  
his mother. And Joyce had liked him and respected him.  
  
God was offering him heaven.  
  
"I don't need time." He said slowly.  
  
Dylan sighed. He had hoped it would work.  
  
"I'll do it."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
Please let me know what you think :)  
Feel free to give me any ideas or constructive critism or whatever!  
  
  
  
  



	6. Ignorance

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
AN1: I forgot to mention where I got these names from   
  
Conflux: This is from Heroes of Might and Magic III  
  
Kalika: I took this from Christopher Pike's The Last Vampire, it means Mother of   
Destruction  
  
Ambrosius: This is from Mary Stewart's Arthurian Saga, it does mean Prince of Light  
  
AN2: In Giles' dream, his memories are shown by //sentence\\.  
  
  
  
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 5  
---------------------------------  
  
  
"Buffy? Anyone here?" Spike called as he entered his crypt the next morning. The place  
was dark, but it smelled of her scent. She had been here recently.   
  
Bitch. She had left the first chance she got.  
  
"Spike?" Came a small voice from the corner. "Oh my God, Spike!" He blinked in surprise  
as a mass of golden flesh and hair came hurdling towards him, knocking him over and pinning  
him to the ground, covering him with wet kisses.  
  
"Down, doggy." He laughed at her as she beamed down at him.  
  
"Spike, I thought you were dead." She cried, hugging his chest. "What happened? Was it--  
was it the angels? Did they hurt you?"  
  
"No, don't worry. I escaped, pet. They didn't hurt me," He lied. God, he felt awful  
for lying to her like this. What kind of vampire was he?  
  
"Good, good. I was so worried." She whispered.  
  
"Why Buffy, I didn't know you cared." He said suggestively, raising one eyebrow in mock  
surprise.   
  
"Spike, I lied."  
  
"You weren't worried?" He asked, disappointed.  
  
"No, I mean I *do* care. I've always cared." She hugged him even more tightly.  
  
Shit, he cursed silently.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Faith?" Dylan called softly as he peered through the bars.   
  
"Who are you?" She glared at him in suspicion.  
  
"My name is Dylan. I've come to let you out of here." He smiled at her.   
  
Wow. She was shocked. "Why?"  
  
"We need you right now. We need a Slayer."  
  
"What happened to Buffy?" Realisation dawned on the dark-haired girl. "Oh my God! B's  
dead, isn't she?" When he did not respond, she screamed. "Isn't she!!"  
  
"Calm down, Faith. It's alright. Yes, she is dead. But she's worse than dead."  
  
"Oh my God." She clasped her hands over her mouth in panic. She had never been chummy with  
Buffy, but Buffy was a fellow Slayer, and Faith respected her. "Is she- is she a vampire?"  
  
Dylan nodded. "That's why we need you, Faith."  
  
"How? I mean, B's tough! She wouldn't- she would never!" She shook her head furiously.  
"No! Does she have a soul?" She pleaded desperately.  
  
"No. She doesn't."  
  
"But I thought- I read somewhere that a Slayer's soul is strong! That- that in many cases  
they win over the demon!"  
  
"Faith, the methods they used for her resurrection were different."  
  
"Resurrection?"  
  
"She wasn't killed by a vampire. She sacrificed herself by leaping into a portal that would  
have destroyed the world."  
  
"She was a hero." Faith whispered. "But then how come she's a vampire?"  
  
"The Devil stole her essence and took her to Hell. He made her a vampire himself by forcing  
the demon into her."  
  
Faith put a hand to her head and used the other to steady herself. "I- I don't wanna leave  
here. I can't.. what if that happens to me? Why not call another Slayer?"  
  
"They can't call a Slayer until you die, Faith. You have to come with us. You're free   
now." He said gently. "We need you because we have a very bad situation right now. Even  
if we could call another Slayer, it would be no use. She would need training, and the  
situation is urgent."  
  
"What do you need me to do?"  
  
"Faith, you have to kill Buffy."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
He was lying in bed, dazed. He had been hurt somehow, but he couldn't remember. He   
couldn't remember anything.   
  
He watched as the woman he loved came to his bedside and smiled at him. "Jenny," He  
whispered. I thought you were gone. You're dead."   
  
"I'm here, see? I'm not dead. I'll never leave you."  
  
He nodded in satisfaction and she kissed him softly, delicately.   
  
How he longed for her.  
  
"Jenny-" He began, and then watched in horror as Jenny became Drusilla, who smiled wickedly  
at him.  
  
"You see?" The vampiress laughed. "Nothing is what it seems. They call seals sea lions  
when they are not lions at all." She shook a pale finger at him. "You were fooled."  
  
//The flaming rose is not a rose at all.\\   
  
Millions of memories flooded into his head.  
  
//There is a particular carnation that grows thorns for its protection.\\   
  
What was it? Oh God, his head hurt, and he couldn't remember.  
  
//...wonderful magical properties...\\   
  
Where was that memory he needed?   
  
//...bursts into flame, allowing the spellcaster's essence to flow into different worlds.\\  
  
Yes! That was what the spell required..  
  
//...called the carnation of blood, it is found only in the Sacred Deserts of Arizona...\\  
  
Giles woke, opening his eyes wide, panting for breath. He looked down at his cotton gray  
shirt and noticed that it was stained with sweat. "Flaming rose." He whispered to himself.  
  
He got up quickly, throwing his sheets off to the side, and reached for the phone on his  
nightstand.   
  
"Hello?" Came a groggy voice.   
  
"Willow. It's Giles."  
  
"Giles? It's nine in the morning! You know I'm sleeping late today after researching the  
whole night!"  
  
"Willow. It's important. I've just found out something about the flaming rose. Pack some  
clothes and supplies that will last us for two or three days."  
  
"What?" Willow said, confused. "What's going on?" She demanded.  
  
"We're going to Arizona."  
  
  
* * *   
  
  
"Hello?" Buffy called. She was in that room again, the red one with no floor, except this   
time there was no one in it.   
  
She looked around, and noticed that the walls were similar to the floor, only opposite. She  
could see the walls and the angles that they made at the verteces when they connected to  
one another, and yet when she touched them, her fingers went through. To the other side?  
Where was the other side?  
  
She began to walk through the wall when she felt a blast of heat and a voice behind her.  
  
"You shouldn't do that." It was a feminine voice.  
  
Buffy turned to see a woman with black hair. She looked very similar to Lucifer.  
  
"I'm Kalika." She said. "One of Lucifer's co-workers."  
  
Co-workers, Buffy thought. What a term.  
  
"And you shouldn't walk through those walls," Kalika continued, "Or you will walk out of  
your dream, and your mind will be lost forever."  
  
"Oh." Buffy said. 'Well geez. Why didn't anyone tell me that before?' She thought in  
irritation.  
  
"This is what we have planned." She smiled. "All four angels are currently residing   
together, to our advantage. We think that the use of a bomb will be best, since they  
are destroyed be fire."  
  
"Good idea," Buffy said. "A human invention will destroy them?"  
  
"Yes. Anything that involves fire."  
  
"So where are they hiding?"  
  
"We don't know but we are working on it. Don't worry, our spies will tell us soon. We will  
contact you then."  
  
Buffy nodded.  
  
"One more thing, dear. That vampire. The one you call Spike?"  
  
"What about him?" She asked, frowning.  
  
"We are not so sure you can trust him. It would be best if you moved out of his..  
*lodgings*." She said disdainfully. "Stay away from him."  
  
"Why?" Buffy shouted, enraged. "What's not to trust about him? He's my friend! I-"  
  
"Buffy, he's met with the Angelic Alliance. He might have been persuaded to join their   
side. You have no way of knowing what happened while he was there."  
  
"I do. I'll ask him!" She cried. "He would never lie to me! If there's one person I   
trust with the truth, it's him!"  
  
The older woman looked at her sympathetically. "Then you put your trust in the wrong  
places, Buffy."  
  
She looked at the devil in disbelief. "It's not true." She said quietly, forcefully.  
  
"What did he tell you about what happened?"  
  
"He said he escaped. He said they didn't hurt him."  
  
"Buffy, he came to you in the morning, under the sun. We did not give him that gift. He  
must have received it from the angels."  
  
"No! He escaped, he--" She shook her head. She refused to believe this woman's nonsense.  
  
"Buffy, no one escapes from God."  
  
  
* * *   
  
  
"Ah. Home sweet home, ladies." Angelus smiled as he opened the car door for his women.  
  
They had watched the sun rise driving down the freeway, the first time in more than a   
century for Angelus and Dru.  
  
Darla had never seen the mansion before so they gave her a grand tour, from the abandoned  
gardens, once abloom with jasmine, to the grand chambers, decorated with mahogany and  
draped with purple and red silk.   
  
Really, she couldn't care less. It didn't matter where they lived. She could live in a box  
naked and she wouldn't mind.  
  
To her, it was just a house.  
  
"What do you think, love?" Angelus asked her once she had visited all the rooms.  
  
"Nice," she commented. "Which is my room?"  
  
He smiled suggestively. "Why, the master bedroom, of course. Would you like me to escort  
you there, kind lady?"  
  
"Daddy is being naughty." Dru spoke up, reproachfully. "He wants to play, but no one will  
play with me."  
  
"Dru, honey, I'm sure you'll find someone." Angelus said, dismissively.   
  
"I miss my Spike." Dru said sadly.  
  
"Spike is an idiot if he won't have you, doll. Forget about him." He said.  
  
"Forget." She nodded.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
It was strange, because as soon as Buffy was done one dream, another came. This one was  
very different.  
  
For one thing, there were no walls. They place was simply white, and so bright that her  
eyes hurt.   
  
It was Lucifer again, but he looked slightly different. His eyes were not blue, but  
a strange shade of purple this time, and his features were somewhat askew.  
  
He was probably in a different mood today, she thought. Afterall, it must be hard to make  
yourself exactly the same each day.  
  
"Buffy." He said.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"We have the location of the three angels."  
  
She frowned. "Aren't there four angels?"  
  
"Oh yes, right. Sorry, I'm tired today.  
  
"Anyways, they have moved into the abandoned mansion." He continued.  
  
"Angel's mansion?"  
  
"Yes, that's the one. You have to act fast before they leave. You must drop the bomb  
there as soon as possible. When you wake up there will be a small sphere by your hand.  
It will look like this." The mechanism he spoke of materialised in his palm.  
  
"It is very powerful. Don't worry, there is no magic in it." He said.  
  
"Why not magic?"  
  
"Didn't I tell you? Angels are immune to magic."  
  
"No, you didn't. Go on."  
  
"We had it made by one of the best bomb-makers in the country. What you will do is press  
this button before you throw it into the house, and the timer will go off. You will have  
exactly 15 seconds to get out of the immediate area."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"You can watch the results from across the street though, it won't hit you. Do you   
understand?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Lucifer smiled, and disappeared.  
  
She didn't notice that he had teleported away in a flash of light instead of a ball of fire.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
Guys, I need ideas! I have planned the ending and everything already but I'm not  
sure how to get there. I need some event in which most of Sunnydale or perhaps the world  
is scorched.  
  
Another thing I desperately need is names for the two devils which haven't been introduced  
yet! It would be best if they meant something in some ancient language, but it's okay  
if they're not. I need untraditional names, unlike the names of the angels, which are  
all boring.  
  
Pretty Please? Thanx,  
  
~Drusilla  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. No Mistake

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
AN: Thanx, guys, for giving me those ideas for the names! They won't be introduced in the  
following chapter, but don't worry, you'll meet them soon. :)  
  
  
  
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 6  
---------------------------------  
  
  
She sat up suddenly from her sleep, gasping, her eyes wide in fear.  
  
"What is it, luv?" He groaned, shifting under the crimson sheets.  
  
"Spike, I had a dream. I have them when they want me to do something, they send dreams to   
me. And this woman-- she said-- she said I couldn't trust you." Buffy choked.   
  
"Shh.. it was just a dream, pet." He held her in his lap and stroked her hair like a child.  
  
She shook her head and got up, looking at him. "It wasn't just a dream, Spike. They're not  
dreams, really. They're meeting places. The woman was Kalika, she is a devil. You--  
you wouldn't lie to me, would you?"  
  
"Course not, poodle." He scoffed. "I would never tell you anything but the truth."   
  
He was being dishonest even as he spoke.  
  
"It's okay." He said, softly, kissing her gently and she hugged him again, seeking comfort  
in the curve of his neck.   
  
Then he kissed her eyes closed. She reached out and taking his hands, undid the lace   
butterfly of her nightgown, revealing every arch and swerve of her body.   
  
He knew that he shouldn't be doing this. He was taking advantage of her, and that was the  
last thing he ever wanted to do.  
  
God, he wanted it so much.  
  
He layed her down onto his pillow and kissed the hollow of her throat, kissed her golden  
shoulder.   
  
Then, in his game face, he bit into the flesh of her neck. At first she gasped in surprise,  
and then moaned in ecstasy.  
  
He only tasted her. He forced himself to return to his human visage and kissed her wound,  
her blood still on his lips. Then he worked downwards, kissing her nipple, her navel, her  
every shadow as she quivered in pleasure.  
  
God, he hated himself.  
  
Every kiss was a lie.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Er.. Giles, explain to me again why we're here?" Willow fidgeted nervously as they stepped  
into a not well-lit magick shop in Arizona. Clearly the purpose of the shop was for darker  
magicks, but it looked like a good place to start.  
  
"Because I had a dream, and it told me that this is the place. It didn't tell me the exact  
area, of course, so we are ...exploring."  
  
As they walked towards the sales counter, a black-haired girl came out the back, dressed  
in a black tank top and blood-red skirt. "May I help you?" She asked, dully.  
  
"Yes, we are looking for something called the flaming rose." Giles said.   
  
"Hmm." The girl frowned. "I've never heard of it before."  
  
"It's also called the carnation of blood." Willow piped in helpfully.  
  
"Oh. That. Right here." The girl said, making her way through the shop to a particular  
shelf filled with different flowers. "Oh, oops. We don't have any left."  
  
Giles looked at Willow, and back again at the salesgirl. "You don't have any left?"  
  
The girl shrugged. "Nope. It's not like we stock many of them, no one ever buys them."  
  
Giles looked at her pleadingly. "Do you know where we can find them?"  
  
"Oh, pfft." She said, waving her hand. "They grow everywhere. It's a very ugly little  
flower, the stem is very thick and the petals are a brownish-black. You can look in the  
reserve just south of here, it's practically overrun with them. You're not technically  
allowed to pick them, but it's not like anyone's gonna stop you."  
  
"Thank you." Giles said.  
  
"Let's go!" Willow exclaimed, dragging Giles out of the store.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Angelus," Kalika smiled, entering the mansion. "Darla. Drusilla." She nodded at the  
women. Again, she was dressed in a business costume, a blue jacket over a white blouse  
and a knee-length navy skirt. "Will you be staying here?" She looked up at the ceiling of   
the mansion, which was cracked and sagging.  
  
"Yes." Drusilla said spacily. "This is our home."  
  
"Well, we had another place planned but I guess this will.. do." She grimaced.   
  
"Where are the other vampires you've promised?" Angelus scowled.  
  
"Ah. Right here." She closed her eyes for a moment and about fifty vampires appeared   
behind her, cringing at the sun and astonished that they were not currently bursting into  
flames. "Don't worry. I've picked the best. They already know what's happening."  
  
"They're *all* going to stay with us?" Darla cut in.   
  
"You have room enough, darling." Kalika smirked. "Now will you let us in for a tour?"  
  
Darla rolled her eyes. She turned her back to them and walked away, glowering at Angelus.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Buffy held the bomb in her hand, watching the mansion through the dark eyelashes of her  
narrowed eyes. She could see no movement in the building and sensed no heartbeats.  
  
She frowned. Was she too late? She cursed silently at herself for letting herself be  
carried away by Spike.  
  
Then she saw a flash of long, pale golden hair in the window.  
  
Angels.  
  
She smiled. Perhaps angels did not have heartbeats. She walked a bit closer to the house  
and peered through one of the windows. There was no one in this room.   
  
Perfect.  
  
She twisted the sphere and it opened, revealing a timer. She saw the small silver button  
Lucifer shown her and she pressed it. She heard a beep and wasted no time, flinging   
it through the window, shattering the glass.   
  
Fifteen seconds pass quickly.  
  
She barely made it to the other side of the street.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Aha! The Sacred Deserts." Giles read triumphantly as they passed the sign. The desert  
rolled on and on, a neverending ocean of sand. Now and then a shrub poked out of the ground  
or a rock, shaped by erosion, stood in its loneliness under the beaming sun.  
  
"Let's stop over there." Willow pointed to an information centre. "We can ask them some  
questions."  
  
"Alright." Giles slowed down and parked his red convertible in the parking lot. There  
was only one other car there. Evidently, this place was hardly visited. The centre was  
only a wooden little structure white-washed so many times that the old paint crumbled under   
the next layer.  
  
A cheery old man greeted them. "Good afternoon!" Obviously, there had not been visitors  
for some time. The pamphlets dated back to 1995.  
  
Giles nodded at him. "We were just wondering, where we could find this certain flower.  
It's called the carnation of blood, also known as the flaming rose?"  
  
"Oh, those weeds. They grow everywhere, even behind this building here. You can pick them  
if you like, I hereby give you permission." The man winked.  
  
Willow smiled at him kindly. "Thank you sir."  
  
"Have a good day!" He hollered after them, waving a pudgy hand amicably.  
  
They walked to the back of the building, and sure enough, against the wall, grew a single  
carnation. The girl was right; it wasn't a very pretty flower and the thorns made it hard   
to pick, or rather, impossible. The stem was tough, like that of most weeds, and wouldn't  
break.  
  
Willow groaned. "Why didn't we bring scissors?"  
  
She stepped back. "Jiandiao!" She cried, and instantly, the stem was cut at the root and  
the flower flew towards her. She smiled smugly as she caught it by one of the less thorny   
parts of the stalk. "Done. Let's go home."  
  
"Let's." Giles agreed. "We don't know what kind of chaos may be taking place up there."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"What was that?" Darla asked suddenly, hearing the window shatter.  
  
"Intruder." Drusilla giggled. "Someone that shouldn't be here. She's a fool."  
  
"Who?" Kalika asked, peeved at Drusilla's antics. What was the matter with the girl?  
  
"Nothing is what it seems." Drusilla whispered. "They call seals sea lions when they  
are not lions at all."  
  
Angelus frowned. Where had he heard that before?  
  
He had no more time to think as the world exploded around him and he knew only darkness.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Buffy ducked, covering her ears, as she felt the force of the explosion knock her to the   
ground. When it was over, she stood up, watching the building go up in flames, a smile   
plastered onto her lips.  
  
Shrapnel flew to her feet and inwardly, she wondered what God's corpse would look like. Or  
perhaps angels did not leave corpses?   
  
Then she took a look at the debris and froze. The head of a porcelain doll, drenched in  
red, red blood. The doll had been blindfolded and gagged. It seemed symbolic, and it   
disturbed her greatly.   
  
Angels did not bleed in red.  
  
She continued to watch the house burn. After a minute she saw a woman walk out, and it  
perplexed her that this woman could survive an explosion like that.  
  
Then she saw the woman's face. Kalika.  
  
Shit.  
  
Her hair was on fire and her expression was murderous. "What the *fuck* are you trying  
to pull, Buffy?" She screamed as she drew near.  
  
"I don't know what- what-" She didn't get to finish as Kalika punched her in the face,  
knocking her onto the concrete. She gasped and swallowed blood, and before she could get  
up, Kalika was sitting on her stomach, her hand at Buffy's throat.  
  
"Now." Kalika said, very slowly and calmly. "You are going to tell me why the FUCK did you  
just blow up a mansion which housed 53 goddamned master vampires, THREE of which are  
Angelus, Darla, and Drusilla!" She roared, her tone getting more furious with each word.  
  
"I didn't know." Buffy said quietly.   
  
Kalika got off of her and threw her hands up in frustration. "Well," She said   
sarcastically, "That's just smart, ain't it! Just go blowing up mansions for fun now?  
What the fuck is wrong with you?" Her hair was still in flames but she didn't seem to mind.  
  
"Do you know how friggin' long it took to find all those vamps? Huh?" She continued.   
"Shit. Lucifer's gonna kill us. Literally. You got it lucky, Buffy, when you die, you  
still go to Hell. I die and I'm gone. I become part of the dirt. Pfft."  
  
"It was a mistake." Buffy said as she got up, dusting herself off. "I- There must have  
been a mistake."  
  
Kalika looked at her expectantly, her arms crossed, lips pursed.  
  
"Lucifer-- he told me to bomb the mansion-- it must have been the wrong one."  
  
"What?" Kalika said in disbelief.  
  
"He said, bomb the mansion! I asked him, Angel's mansion? And he said yes--" She babbled.  
  
"Shit. What are you, some kind of idiot? That was no mistake, Buffy."  
  
"I don't understand. What do you mean?" Buffy said desperately.  
  
Kalika shook her head. "I *said*, this wasn't a mistake. This was a set-up."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
Please, please, review, and tell me what you think! I beg of you!  
  
  
  



	8. Strands of Hair

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
AN: Thanks to all of you who helped me in choosing names for the devils!   
  
  
  
  
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 7  
---------------------------------  
  
  
"Let me get this straight." The blond goddess said. "I died. Fluffy died. Somehow,  
Daddy resurrected us, and now we are both alive. And now we are on the same side?" She  
sat lazily on a plush divan, sipping a cocktail.  
  
"Yes, oh splendorous one." Jynx bowed.  
  
"Huh. Interesting." She puffed, never looking up at the minions. She took the lime  
from the cocktail glass into her well-manicured hand and sucked on it. "So, what does   
Daddy expect little *me* to do?"  
  
The minions looked at each other nervously. "We-- we don't know, oh resplend--" One of  
them started bravely.  
  
"Leave." Glory cut him off, waving her hand. "I *said* leave!" She commanded as they  
hesitated.  
  
The brave one was about to protest when an elder clapped a hand over the youngster's mouth.  
"As you wish, my Lady."   
  
She motioned for the others to leave and turned to the door herself when Glory spoke again.  
"Wait. You stay." She demanded, pointing a lazy finger at the elder. "You seem--  
intelligent. For a little scabby minion, but hey! Anyways, what is going on, and what  
is Daddy planning?"  
  
"My Lady, the Great Lord is at war with the Angelic Alliance, and he is collecting the  
legions. He believes you may be of use."  
  
"Damn right, I'm useful." Glory said contemptuously. "Where is he now?"  
  
"The Dark Prince is here in Sunnydale at the moment. I believe he is lodging at the castle  
at the moment, oh glorious one."  
  
"Take me to him."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Kalika stood before Charna, the Second Devil, awaiting the woman's decision. Charna was  
not large, nor was her human form pretty, but her presence was powerful and held a certain  
grace which could only be mastered by one who had lived so long as she. She rarely spoke,  
for words were meaningless in her context, but when she did, her tones were subtle, soft,  
and yet commanding.   
  
No one ever dared oppose her.  
  
The whisper went that she and Lucifer, although siblings, often shared the same bed. Charna  
had never denied this, nor had she confirmed it; she treated gossip with disdain.  
  
"Kalika." She said in her sweet bell-tones, yet it was cruel, the way she hid the unspoken.  
"Perhaps you would like to tell us what happened today, at the mansion."  
  
Kalika did not pretend to misunderstand. "I was there to bring the vampires to their new  
home when Darla, one of Angelus' women, heard glass shattering. We were going to   
investigate when the house simply exploded. I ran out of the house to find Miss Summers  
standing out there. It was-- it was she who set the bomb there." She stated meekly.  
  
"Ah. Buffy Summers. Now why would she bomb the mansion when there were more than fifty  
of her kind inside, all willing to serve *her*?" Charna leaned forward from her chair,  
her eyes sparkling with amusement.  
  
"She said Lord Lucifer had sent her a dream, telling her the location of the angels."  
  
"Yet we do not know the location of the angels, and Lucifer never contacted her after you  
did." Her eyes flashed dangerously.  
  
Kalika nodded. "It was one of the angels impersonating the Lord. She says that her dream  
was white instead of red."  
  
"Tell me. Did you not feel her coming, Kalika? Did you not hear Miss Summers' thoughts?  
Why did you not stop her before she reached within a mile of the mansion? Hmm?"  
  
The younger woman trembled noticeably. "My Lady, you know that I do not have those  
powers. I cannot-- I cannot read minds like the elders."  
  
Charna cocked her head to one side and smiled cruelly at Kalika. "Who are you to tell me  
what I know and do not know?" She sneered.  
  
Kalika was silent and kept her head lowered.  
  
"Why did Lucifer send you here, do you think? Because I really don't know, Kalika. You  
are young and your powers are minimal. What do you think?"  
  
"I-- I don't know, my Lady."  
  
"Perhaps because you are dispensable." She laughed, and turned to Erra, who stood at the  
doorway. She nodded at him and he came forward, his face set, his expression grim. He   
resembled Lucifer in a way, but he was taller, darker, and his eyes were a dark, murky  
green.  
  
Kalika turned around to see him holding a small dagger in his gloved hand, the hilt embedded  
with jewels for every colour of the rainbow.  
  
Her eyes widened.  
  
She gasped, but before she could utter a word, he had slit her throat, letting her black  
blood stain her blouse. She gagged for a second, struggling in his arms, and after a  
minute she lay still.   
  
Erra looked at her with sad eyes. He had loved her for millenia. Finally, he released her   
from his grip, and before she could hit the ground, she had turned to ash.  
  
Charna smiled at Erra seductively, indifferent about her fellow devil's death. She rose   
from her chair and said, "Erra, let's have dinner, hmm?" She took his hand and pulled him   
out the door, grinding her heel against Kalika's remains as she left.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Spike, you lied." Buffy stood at the door of his crypt, staring at him menacingly.  
  
"What do you mean, luv?" He moved towards her, his head cocked, suspicious.  
  
"Fuck you, Spike. Don't play your stupid little games on me." She spat. "I was an idiot  
to trust you."  
  
Spike froze, and the little colour he had drained from his face. "Buffy, I--"  
  
"I don't want to hear it! How dare you do this to me? I believed you. You said that  
you would never tell me anything but the truth, and you were lying as you spoke." She   
yelled, gesturing wildly.   
  
He didn't know what to say. "I did it for you--"  
  
"Don't tell me this. You know what? I actually *believed* you when you said you loved me.  
Yeah." She nodded. "I really did. And I ended up falling for you. Pfft. What a   
mistake."  
  
In a way, his heart warmed at the sound of confession, but this was not when he had hoped  
to hear it. His eyes darkened. "I do love you, Buffy. How can you say that I don't?"  
  
"Spike, you don't know what love is."  
  
"And you do?" He glared at her. "What do you know? I loved you the first time I layed  
eyes on you, even though I didn't know what it was, and mistook it for bloodlust. I loved  
you, even when you told me to leave this town. I loved you when we were fighting Glory  
and we risked our lives. My heart was torn after you died. And then, two months later,  
you just come waltzing back into my life and screw-- everything up, I *still* loved you."  
His face was so close to hers now that she could feel his non-existent breath. He looked  
intently into her eyes. "And even now, I love you." He looked at her pleadingly, his  
eyes beginng to water.  
  
She turned away and walked out the door, swinging a backpack over her shoulder. "Great time  
to tell me that, Spike. Great."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Faith was a hazardous driver. She raced along the freeway at 75 miles per hour, belting  
out rock tunes to the radio, which was cranked up at its highest notch. She passed the  
sign "Welcome to Sunnydale" and drove on for a bit, before she decided to stop at the  
gas station for junk food. There was no junk in jail, of course, so she took full advantage  
of the fact that she was free.  
  
She picked up two bags of Lays, a box of Smarties, and a Mr. Big chocolate bar. She smiled  
as she dropped them onto the counter and pulled out her black leather wallet, now fat with  
the money Dylan had given her.  
  
As she walked out into the sunshine, swinging her little plastic bag of goodies, she felt  
someone-- something-- close by. Her slayer instincts kicked in as she listened for more  
movement.   
  
Suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she whirled around, her feet meeting her  
assailant's chest with a crunch. She looked down to see a man on the ground, spitting...  
something silver?  
  
Oh God, she thought, and her first instinct was to flee. If this man died, they would be  
after her again, and she would land back in jail. She knelt over him and to her surprise,  
he got up. "Are you okay?" She inquired, worriedly.  
  
"Yes. Quite." His accent was strange, unfamiliar. She couldn't distinguish where it came  
from, and it intrigued her. "You are Faith, I presume?"  
  
"Yes." She raised her eyebrow. "How did you know?"  
  
"I am one of Dylan's associates. Thomas." He held out his hand.  
  
She shook it hesitantly. "Who is Dylan, exactly? I've never heard of him. You're not  
from the Watcher's Council." She frowned.  
  
"No, we are not. The Council works for us." He smiled at her. "Let's find you a place to  
stay." He began to lead her to her car.  
  
She was not distracted. "Then who are you?" She narrowed her eyes.  
  
Thomas sighed. "You probably wouldn't believe us if we told you, so I might as well let  
Dylan tell you later."  
  
"Try me."  
  
"Faith, I'm only supposed to escort you to the hotel, because there will be many Big Bads  
out looking for you."  
  
"I can deal with them." She snorted.  
  
"These ones? I don't know."  
  
"Then explain."  
  
He rolled his eyes in defeat and took a deep breath. "We-- are angels."  
  
She opened her eyes wide. "Angels?" She chuckled nervously. "This isn't a joke, is it?"  
  
"I'm not joking, Faith. And the people looking for you are devils. I don't think you'd  
like to fight them, seeing as there are four of them."  
  
She froze. "Devils? Four?" She felt the goosebumps creeping up both her arms, which was  
strange, because Faith was never afraid.  
  
"Yes." And he explained about the war.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Hey, guys." Willow said merrily as she and Giles walked into the Magic Box.   
  
"Hey hey," Xander waved from behind the counter. He had been helping Anya manage the shop  
during Giles' absence.  
  
"How was your trip?" Anya smiled, as usual. "Did you find the flower?" Her curls bobbed  
on her shoulders as she spoke.  
  
"Yup." said Willow, producing the flower from behind her back. "Now all we need is   
something that belongs to Buffy."  
  
"Well that should be easy," Xander put in. "There's lots of her things in her house  
still."  
  
Giles shook his head. "No, it's not that simple. The object has to be part of something   
which will be on her while we do the spell. For example, if she wears a locket, we take   
part of the chain. The rest of the chain is on her, so the pheonix will come to whoever  
possesses the other part of the chain."  
  
"It doesn't have to be a chain though, right?" Xander queried.   
  
"No, that's just an example. It can be anything. It's hard to say what she will be wearing  
that day, though." He thought for a moment, taking his glasses off.   
  
"I know, her hair!" Willow exclaimed. "We'll find a strand of hair that belongs to her."  
  
Everyone looked at her and smiled.  
  
"Willow, you are a genius." Anya said sincerely.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
  
STEVE FARRELL: Look, it's Xander! I know, not many lines, but it's the best I can do. :)  
There'll be more of him in the next two chapters.  
  



	9. One Down, Two to Go

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
AN: Sorry for the delay, folks, but here it is!  
  
  
  
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 8  
---------------------------------  
  
  
"Donc, le plan a fonctionne?" (So the plan worked?) Inquired Thomas. He and Peter were  
sitting at a diner over sandwiches and cola. It was not a formal meeting, only a dinner  
outing, and the two were celebrating their latest 'victory'.  
  
"Oui." (Yes.) Peter laughed. "C'etait si facile, personne n'a soupconne chose avant que  
c'etait trop tard." (It was terribly easy, no one suspected anything until it was too   
late.)  
  
Thomas tensed for a moment, sensing disturbance in the atmosphere. "Pierre. Les Corbeaux  
viennent." (Peter. The Ravens are coming.) He whispered.  
  
Peter lowered his glass and froze. Should they meet, they would not escape a brawl.  
  
"Gentlemen." A male voice said in mocking tones.  
  
The two angels turned to see two devils standing beside them. Shit, thought Peter. He  
knew that in a close fight, angels were no match for devils in human form, especially   
without weapons.  
  
"Erra. Charna." Thomas greeted coldly.  
  
The red-haired female laughed. "No need for hostility, boys." She clucked.   
  
"We don't want trouble." Peter said, standing to face Erra. "Leave."  
  
Unlike Kalika, Charna wore a tight-fitted leather skirt and a low-cut beige halter. She put  
her hands on the table and leaned over, spilling her cleavage. "Aw, come on, boys.  
We don't bite." She smirked.  
  
A waiter walked by and stuck his head in. "Excuse me, is there a problem here?" He asked,  
looking at Peter and Erra, who were staring each other down.  
  
"No. No problem." Said Thomas, his teeth clenched.  
  
"Actually yes," Charna stood up straight, smiling at the young man. "Yes, there is a   
problem. You see, we," She gestured at Erra and herself. "are these gentlemen's arch  
rivals." She articulated the last words slowly, her eyes twinkling. "And we are afraid  
that after this confrontation, there will be much.. blood. Do you think you know of a good  
drycleaner that will clean blood off of leather?"  
  
The waiter was obviously unnerved, but he refused to let it show. "I'm sorry folks, but  
I'm going to have to ask you to leave--"  
  
"That's not necessary." Erra cut him off. "We will stay where we wish, and.. *God* help  
those who should stop us." He looked pointedly at the two angels. "Oh but look, he's not  
here. He must be too busy to care for his own children." He smirked.  
  
"I'm going to call security," The man threatened.  
  
"You do that," Charna laughed.  
  
Suddenly, Thomas lashed out at her and she went careening into the opposite table, stunning  
the family eating there. "Why you little bastard!" She screamed in fury as picked herself  
up. "Don't make me use fire, Thomas, don't."  
  
Peter looked at Thomas disbelieveingly and in an instant, Erra had the latter tackled onto   
the table and placed in a choke-hold. "Apologize to the lady," He commanded, his teeth  
gritted together, in a quiet but deadly tone.  
  
Thomas blurted something unintelligible while Charna and Peter glared at each other, their  
eyes like daggers.  
  
"I'm waiting." Erra growled.  
  
"Fuck you." Thomas sputtered.  
  
Erra smiled, and Thomas began to scream. Flames began to grow through the devil's fingers.  
Charna grinned wickedly as Peter froze in terror, unable to move for fear.  
  
The flames continued to envelop Thomas' throat.  
  
There were few people in the diner, but every one of them turned to look at the four beings  
at the front of the restaurant. They all grew silent when they watched the black-haired  
man drop his victim to the ground, the throat of the smaller man black and charred and  
burnt through to the bone.  
  
"Let's walk," Erra turned to his partner, smirking. He put a hand around her waist as   
they left the scene.  
  
Peter blinked, watching the two devils leave, and sank to the ground, putting a hand under  
Thomas' head.   
  
"Someone call 911," The waiter whispered, and the customers made a wild dash to their cell  
phones.  
  
"There's no need." Peter trembled, watching Thomas' body disintegrate into light.  
  
  
* * *   
  
  
"Spike." Willow looked up from her book in surprise as he entered the magic shop in midday.  
She frowned. "Um.. How've you been?"  
  
"Good.. And not so good. Listen, Red, there's something you all should know-- it's Buffy--  
she's--"  
  
"Back." Willow finished for him, nodding sadly. "We know. How did *you* know?"  
  
"She, uh, stayed with me for a bit, and then, uh, took off."  
  
"Spike, she came to you, and you didn't tell us?" Willow exclaimed accusingly.   
  
"Well--"  
  
"Spike, she's very powerful now, and she's a threat to us!" Willow's eyes flashed angrily.  
  
Spike sighed. Why had he come to them? He should have known that the blame was always put  
on him. He should have know that they would never trust him, especially with his chip out.  
Defeated, he turned and walked towards the exit.  
  
"Wait Spike, we need your help." He turned to see Giles coming from the back. "If Buffy  
stayed with you for even a day, you may be able to help us."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do," He replied flatly.  
  
"We are in the process of performing a ritual to summon beings from netherworlds. To bid  
the creature to find Buffy, we need something of hers of which the other half will be on her  
at the time of the ritual. Something like a piece of hair."  
  
"You can get hair from her house." Spike said dryly.  
  
"No. Because she was alive when she lived at her house. We need something from after she  
became a vampire."  
  
"Yeah? Fine. I'll get it for you. Just bloody well remember that I'm doing you a favour."  
He spat as he left the store.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"They've killed Thomas." Dylan shook his head angrily.   
  
"Lord, are you certain?" Michael furrowed his brow, worried.  
  
"Of course I'm certain!" Dylan declared, glaring at his fellow angel. His expression   
softened when he saw Michael's scared look. "When I reach out for him with my mind,  
he's not there."  
  
"Perhaps they've taken him to their dimension?"  
  
"No, no. Why would they do that?" Dylan began to pace. "They have no reason to. There  
would be nothing for them to do in Inferno that they wouldn't do here." He shook his  
head. "No, they must have killed him."  
  
Michael sat silently.  
  
"Where's Faith?" Dylan demanded suddenly.   
  
"She's at her hotel, Lord." Michael stood up. "Shall I get her?"  
  
"Yes. Yes. Tell her we need her here immediately."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Spike sighed as he looked at the pile of clothes Buffy had left in his crypt. What was he  
doing wrong? He shook his head, not understanding women. He ran his pale hands over her  
red sweater, closing his eyes and imagining that she was in it.  
  
In his dreams she never wore red. Red was not her colour. He picked up another article,  
a pink blouse. He picked a golden strand of hair from it and looked at it for a few  
moments.  
  
How he was supposed to know whether it belonged to her before or after her death was beyond  
him. He shook his head and let the golden yarn fall to the ground. He sat onto his bed,  
and then sank his head down between the pillows.  
  
He remembered when she was alive and came to his crypt after Glory had tortured him. He  
had been battered and bruised, and she had kissed him. It may have been out of sympathy,  
but it was genuine. His heart had melted and he knew that no matter the pain he suffered,  
that one embrace was worth it.  
  
He blinked and saw another piece of hair entwined with the lace edges of his pillow.   
Carefully, he pulled it out with two fingers and looking at it, he sighed.  
  
He wondered if all the hurt and betrayal and pain he had caused and was going through was  
worth that one night of false bliss.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
It wasn't.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"But Daddy, pleeeease?" Glory whined.  
  
"Glorificus, stop. You are in no way fit to go home and fight. Look at you! You were   
beaten by a *vampire* slayer, and you had wrinkly little minions to do most of the work  
for you." Lucifer pointed out.  
  
"Why? Why do you hate me?" She pouted.  
  
"Glory. *Stop*. The answer is no. Don't ask me again."  
  
Glory frowned at him, her expression hurt. "You favour Fluffy to *me*."  
  
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "I don't favour anyone to anyone. Okay. How about this. You go  
kill as many angels as possible, and then if you're a good girl, Daddy will let you come  
home." He said in a voice that one would use for children.  
  
"Okay." She brightened up instantly.  
  
Lucifer smiled back falsely.  
  
"So.. where are they?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"512 Gleick Road." Buffy muttered to herself. She hid behind some greenery, cursing to  
herself silently as her heel sank into the soil.   
  
She held a longbow and a lighter. Silently, she dipped the end of the arrow into the  
lighter's flame and watched as the tip began to burn.  
  
"She's here." She heard a man's voice say faintly. She waited as one of them appeared  
about 50 feet from where she stood, closing his eyes in concentration. Purposely she  
filled her mind with strange ideas and watched as the angel looked in her direction, without  
seeing her, confused.  
  
She pulled the bow back and let the flaming arrow loose.  
  
It struck him between the eyes and he gasped in surprise. Immediately she set up another  
arrow and fired it, this time landing in his throat. The angel staggered for a moment, and  
she saw that her second arrow had pierced its way through his neck, the tip protruding   
sickeningly from the back side.  
  
He was not dead yet. She shook her head as she lighted another arrow. The angel was trying  
to pull the shaft from his brow when another came and pinned both his hands to his head.  
  
Buffy smiled grimly as she let loose her last arrow and nodded to herself in satisfaction as  
it impaled itself through the angel's heart and set the fabric of his jacket on fire. She  
began to walk away as she saw his body slowly turn to light.  
  
"One down, two to go." She said aloud, smirking.  
  
She gasped in surprise as she bumped into a dark figure dressed entirely in black.   
  
She stared for a moment at the familiar face framed by curls of dark hair, and the warm   
brown eyes lined thickly with black eyeliner. She ran her eyes in surprise over the glossed  
red lips in full pout, and the hardened expression hidden beneath a mock-friendly mask.  
  
"Hey, B. Did you miss me?" The brunette grinned as she knocked Buffy out.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
Hey guys, I *really* need feedback! Any ideas or suggestion are *very* welcome!  
  
  



	10. Playing With Fire

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
AN: Guys, please stop yelling at me! [bewildered] If I make Spike bad, you want him good,  
if I make him good, you want him bad! AHHH! I'm gonna do it my way!!  
[Breathing heavily] Okay, I'm done now, back to all smiles. :)  
  
  
  
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 9  
---------------------------------  
  
  
  
Faith's lips curled into a grim smile as she dragged the blond vampire's body onto the   
pavement of the house's driveway. Twirling her weapon of choice in her hand, she looked  
down at Buffy's face for a minute, cocking her head to one side.   
  
Those golden lashes and pale yellow hair she had always envied. It was too bad they had  
both come to this.  
  
"Pfft." She said to herself, refusing to believe she was getting all teary-eyed over the   
past. The past was long-gone; There was only now.  
  
She shrugged, and plunged the wooden implement into her foe's heart.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"We lost Peter." He said suddenly, in a sad tone.   
  
Michael froze. Never had the rivalry between the two names come to this. Even in the   
history of time, rarely did the creatures of Evil seek out and murder the creatures of Good.  
Each held a respect for the Balance. "She's still here." He said somberly.  
  
"And so is our Slayer."   
  
"We should help her."  
  
"No." Dylan said firmly. "Let them fight it out. We are weak in our human form, Michael,  
and we cannot risk losing more of our kind."  
  
"But Lord, the Slayer. If she dies?"  
  
"It won't matter. She is expendable-- We are not."  
  
His attitude was harsh, something Michael was not accustomed to. "What do we do?" He  
squirmed uncomfortably.  
  
"When they are done, we will leave this place; especially if the vampire still lives. We  
are no longer going to be on the defensive, Michael. This is war."  
  
"What is your plan?"  
  
"I don't know yet."  
  
"We need more power."  
  
Dylan nodded. "Yes. Call on the others."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
She coughed up blood as she came to, feeling wetness at her breast. Groaning, she looked  
at her chest and gasped as she saw the gash at her heart. She looked up and winced as she  
saw her agressor's face, and stared some more when she saw the surprised look and the   
bloodied stake.  
  
//No stake can kill you.\\ Her demon had said.  
  
Rolling to her side, she vomitted, and then struggled to get back onto her feet.  
  
"Oh my God, is this like a party?" Came a voice behind them. The two girls whirled around  
to see a head of blond curls.  
  
Faith looked at the newcomer in dismay. She had no other weapons.  
  
She ran, and the other two women made no attempt to follow her.  
  
"Glory, what are you doing alive?" Buffy glared as soon as she came over her surprise.  
  
"I could say the same for you." The Hellgod said pointedly. "And then again, maybe not."  
She raised her eyebrows as she saw the stake-wound. "Ouch. That's gotta hurt."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Daddy's not going to be happy!" She said in a sing-song voice.  
  
Buffy growled at her.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Giles sat in his chair, scanning through his books nervously. Willow was preparing in the  
training room in the back, meditating. He flipped to the section on phoenixes, just to be  
sure.  
  
There were four chapters on the phoenix, and he did not have the time to read it all.  
Skipping through the sections, he turned to the page on 'Summoning.'   
  
"Unless the world to which the phoenix will be summoned possesses the effective   
counter-type, the balance between the elements will be tipped, and fire will rage through  
the earth, eating up all that is in its path." He flipped the page again, and to his   
dismay, the next pages were ripped and the text was illegible.  
  
And Willow had said she had done all the appropriate research! What was she thinking?  
And suddenly, he knew exactly what Willow was thinking. He cursed himself for not looking  
into it himself, and for letting Willow try such a dangerous spell.   
  
He flew to the training room, and like he had suspected, the door was locked, probably by  
magic. Knocking on the door frantically, he shouted and screamed like a madman, but Willow  
appeared to not have heard.   
  
He watched, helpless, as she picked up the rose and tied the strand of hair to its stem  
carefully. She closed her eyes and began to chant in Latin.  
  
He felt the hairs on his neck and arms rise as her eyes became dark with power.  
  
But nothing happened.  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief and continued to knock on the door until the flesh on his  
knuckles was broken.  
  
She did not hear.  
  
She picked up the rose and frowned. Suddenly, she recoiled, and Giles saw that one of the  
thorns had pricked her. Her blood ran down the stalk, and when she touched the petals,  
the blood swelled in the centre of the flower.   
  
He stared on in surprise and terror as the flower burst into a yellow flame.  
  
//Flaming rose. Carnation of blood.\\ And everything suddenly made sense.  
  
She stared intently into the golden blaze.  
  
He blinked as she screamed, and her essence was seperated from her body.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"You were beaten by a.. a Slayer?" Lucifer said, his eyes dancing with fury. Glory lazed  
on a leather divan behind him, inspecting her red-painted nails.  
  
Buffy glared back at him. "Why don't *you* go and fight God and his angels? Why don't   
*you* risk your ass? Oh, but I forgot, you're so mighty powerful that you spend all day  
telling *other* people what to do."  
  
"Silence." The archdevil said dangerously.  
  
"Maybe I *want* to talk. And the first thing I wanna talk about is the lousy so-called  
super-power thingy you gave me. 'Cause really, I'm not feeling it. If you're so   
all-powerful, why don't you make me tougher, huh?  
  
"Maybe I don't wanna do your fucking dirty work anymore. I killed one of 'em. There's two  
left, you deal with them." She threw up her hands and walked towards the door.  
  
And she screamed.  
  
There was a typed of fire that clung to her internally, and she felt as though she was  
exploding.   
  
"You fail to understand my power." She heard him say, vaguely.  
  
The pain stopped finally as she collapsed to the floor, sobbing.  
  
"You will do whatever I say." He said icily. "Because you are my child now.  
  
"I gave you the power you have, Slayer. Ever heard of the saying that everything you do  
comes back tenfold? It comes from this. You can't *make* power. You have to take whatever  
exists. That means it took the power of ten hellgods to give you the power you have now."  
He sneered. "And it better not go to waste." He said, hissing.  
  
He turned away from her, and paced across the room. "And the gift I gave you and your  
vampire friends.. the ones you blew up. Somewhere, out there, there are 40 humans who now  
burn under the sun. They are probably dead." He chuckled.  
  
Immediately, his tone became harsh again. Deadly. "There will be no more of this   
foolishness. Kalika has been taken care of. And you will no longer go prancing of with  
your precious boytoy, the traitor. You will stay in this building, where we can keep close  
watch on your actions."  
  
He kicked at her, cruelly, from her position and she went sliding into the wall.  
  
"You will do what I say because I say it. And if you disobey, there will be punishment."  
He spat.  
  
"Death." She whispered.  
  
He shakes his head. "No. Worse."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Faith ran. When she was far enough away for her liking, she stopped, bending over and  
gasping for breath.  
  
She saw the bushes beside her shaking in the corner of her eye, and she stepped closer to  
investigate.  
  
When a black-clad figure burst out of the greenery, she dropped into a defensive stance,   
having no weapons. Then she recognized him and dropped her fists. "Oh. It's you." She  
said, slightly disappointed.  
  
The figure glared at her. "Yeah. And who are you?"  
  
"The Slayer." She tossed her dark curls behind her shoulder.  
  
"Slayer? They got a new one already?"  
  
"No, I'm Faith. You know, the screwed up one that landed in jail."  
  
"Ah. What are you doing out? Of jail, I mean."  
  
"Some people bailed me out."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Right."  
  
They walked on in uncomfortable silence, each hoping that a baddie would come their way.  
  
But no such luck.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
She arched her back in pain. Opening her eyes, she saw a world of white before her; a   
white so pure and unmarred that the brilliance hurt her eyes, yet it held a type of beauty  
she had never before witnessed.   
  
Picking herself up, she looked down at herself, and was only mildly surprised when her  
body was a transparent, glowing silver.  
  
A strange cord protruded from her belly, and she looked at it curiously. Holding it   
delicately with her fingers, she blinked as she saw the silver disappear into her flesh.  
  
How bizarre.  
  
She looked back and saw that it disappeared into the whiteness, the origin probably being  
home. She smiled as she thought of it; the place she would never again see. She regretted  
it on some level, but it was her own life, and this was her destiny. Finally she saw  
some purpose in her craft, although she was sad, leaving Tara and those she loved, behind.  
But this was the way it was supposed to be.  
  
She pushed thoughts of home and destiny out of her mind and concentrated on her immediate  
surroundings. Before her lay a vast expanse of eternal purity. She closed her eyes, and   
instantly, she knew the way. She took a few steps forward, awkward on her strange feet,   
and felt the tug of the cord on her belly.   
  
She had to do it. She could not let them find her, bring her back, before she had  
accomplished her mission.  
  
She closed her eyes and pulled out the silver cord.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
Sorry guys, I know it took a long time to get this chapter up, but lately I've been busy  
working on another piece. If you have time, check it out-- it's called 'Yesterday's Child',  
and it's a Buffy/Roswell Crossover fic.  
  
Please review!  
  
  
  
  



	11. Sacrifice

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
  
  
  
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 10  
---------------------------------  
  
  
He watched on as the two creatures moved together in a dance of sorts, narrowing his green  
slits of eyes. He followed their movements as he padded on stealthily, the underside of his  
paws cushioning his step.  
  
"Phew. That was the ninth vamp we've dusted today!" She exclaimed, pushing her hair back  
from her face.  
  
"Yeah. There's been a lot more action goin' on this past week." The vampire said.  
  
The girl sat down on a grave marker and slouched, breathing heavily. "And about the whole  
heavenly war thing. *How* exactly are we supposed to kill all these devils?"  
  
His whiskers twitched.  
  
The vampire tensed, suddenly. "There's someone here."  
  
The girl looked around, and seeing nothing, turned back to him. "Relax, Spike. There's no  
one here 'cept us."  
  
He was not convinced. Seeing the dark form hiding in the shadows, he pounced, and   
produced a shrieking black feline: not quite a housecat, not quite a wildcat either.  
  
She laughed. "I gotta give it to ya, Spike. You're paranoid."  
  
"This," The blonde said, scowling, "is *not* a cat."  
  
Her eyes grew serious. "Then what is it?"  
  
He squirmed under the vampire's grip, but it was hopeless in his current state.  
  
"Watch." The vampire produced a small knife and knicked the ball of fur on the leg, and it  
bled. Not red blood like the creatures of Earth, but a black, tar-like fluid.  
  
He snarled, showing his teeth, and attempted to bite the creature that was holding him  
hostage.  
  
"A devil." His captor stated.  
  
"Are we sure?"  
  
"We can make sure." And the vampire twisted.  
  
Erra snarled and spat and struggled as his vision faded and he became one with the earth.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Giles was panicking, for lack of anything more useful to do. He had previously called Tara  
and Xander, and they were on their way, to arrive at any moment now. Their only hope was  
if Tara could somehow reach Willow's essence and convince her to come back. He bit his  
tongue, thinking.  
  
By God, they were in a bad fix. If the phoenix were to scorch the earth, it would not be  
a quick death for any of them. Picking up the book again, he decided to read more on the  
subject, in case he could find any more useful information.  
  
"When the Universe was new, three powerful forces were created. One was born of light.  
One was born of ash. And another was born of fire.   
  
"The Light and the Ash were enemies from the beginning, because their origins were so close  
and yet so opposite. Energy and matter. Light and dark. Day and night.   
  
"But the Fire permitted no harm to be done, for it was a stronger power than any of the two,  
because he was neither light nor dark, yet both. And through the ages, he remained the   
Keeper of the Balance.  
  
"They each created a home for themselves; Light in the skies, Ash in the underworld, and  
Fire upon the land. And the rivalry continued still, because of one thing more than any   
else.  
  
"For they were brothers."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
She wandered forwards, her bare feet cold on the misty ground. She knew which direction  
to go instinctively and followed her mind without question. Her skin felt wet, and she  
shivered uncomfortably.  
  
She hugged herself tightly, but for no use. It seemed she had no body heat in this strange  
world. She paced faster, eager to find her destination.  
  
And all at once, everything changed.  
  
No longer was it the stretch of seafoam that she saw in front of her but an infinitely wide  
meadow of dewy grass. To one side was a small hill, peaking at a blunt angle and stroking  
the fourteen suns. Smiling a little, she ran through the weed, knowing exactly where to  
head, which direction to turn.   
  
She reached the little peak, and gasped in horror at what she saw.  
  
Millions and millions of angels and devils, gathered in middleground, in combat. The angels  
were armed with golden longswords, but the devils carried nothing.   
  
She blinked, astonished, and watched as hundreds of these creatures turned to either light  
or ash. She cried out for a second, marvelling at the beauty of these fabled beasts.   
  
It was magnificent.  
  
White brilliance and silver wing clashed with dark beauty and blood-red fury, and her   
stomach lurched a little at the strangely colored blood that was spilt so abundantly upon  
the grass.   
  
She closed her eyes, and all doubt left her mind.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Tara was at loss. She stared at the tome blankly, gathering strength. Her one love was  
was captivated in a state of mind that could mean the destruction of the Earth.   
  
No, things like this didn't happen every day, not to normal girls.  
  
Her fingers traced the lines of characters that scrambled across the page, and she smiled  
grimly as she found that which she was searching for. They were counting on her. Giles.  
Xander. The world. She was their only hope.  
  
And tears came to her eyes.  
  
Sniffing, she blinked them back, and forced herself into an upright position.   
  
She closed her eyes loosely and recited the peculiar words which she had so quickly   
memorized.  
  
Oh Goddess, had she pronounced that word wrong? Oh Lord.  
  
She screamed, and her body fell limp, but her mind soared. Willow! Willow? And nothing  
save the the light harkened.  
  
Light! She followed it and blinked as she came to a bright passage, a white type of room..  
was it indoors? Was it outside? Was it even real?  
  
Willow! Willow had been here. A flash of silver caught her eye and she stumbled towards   
it hurriedly. A length of rope, or something like it. Yes, Willow had been here and the  
rope belonged to her.   
  
It reeked of her essence, of her existence. Follow it, Tara, follow. No no no, this wasn't  
right. Something was wrong. Wrong!  
  
Her head screamed. Was it a head, after all? No no, it wasn't real. Nothing's real.  
Her head doesn't ache. It doesn't feel like it's going to explode.  
  
Not real. Not real!  
  
Something wasn't right. No no, it couldn't be.  
  
The rope had been severed.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
"Tara?" She whispered. Her brow furrowed. No! What was Tara doing here? "Tara!"  
  
//Willow.\\  
  
Tara! Tara, where are you? She spun around, searching frantically.  
  
The other girl sobbed. //Willow, you have to come back.\\  
  
No! No, she couldn't come back. Why couldn't Tara see? It was her destiny.  
  
//Trust me. You don't know what will happen if-- if you succeed.\\  
  
Of course she knew what would happen! Heaven and Hell would be saved!  
  
//There's more than that. There's consequences.\\  
  
No, no..  
  
//Earth will be destroyed. Burned.\\  
  
Yes, but..  
  
//And we will all die, Willow. People are going to die! Everyone in this dimension.\\  
  
Willow sobbed. Did she think she didn't know? She had known!   
  
//Then why?\\ Her lover pleaded. //Why?\\  
  
Tara couldn't understand. She could never. But it was right! It was the right thing!  
  
//Please listen.\\  
  
No. She couldn't.  
  
//Please come home. We need you to come home.\\  
  
Sorry.  
  
//Willow! Everything you've ever known! Everything you've ever lived for! Everything.   
Destroyed! How can you?\\  
  
She knew. Oh Goddess, she knew. And it was hard, but it had to be done.  
  
//Please.\\ Tara sobbed. //Willow, I love you. You need to come back.\\  
  
Couldn't she see? This was the only way!  
  
//It's not. Come back, we'll figure something out. Something else!\\  
  
There's nothing else. Willow had been reading. The only way to stop the two brothers was  
to bring in the father.  
  
//Willow!\\  
  
No. It's a game! It's all a game!  
  
//It's not a game. It's real!\\  
  
A game. It's a game, and somebody has to make the sacrifice.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
She woke in a strange dark room, lit only by a few thin candles that stood on the dresser  
in the corner. The bed was too luxurious to be real, surely, and yet it stood solid under   
her body.  
  
Aha. She was at Lucifer's place.  
  
She scowled. Since when did she take orders from anyone? Not teachers, not the Council.  
But this-- this was rather different. She didn't have a choice, did she?  
  
And her thoughts drifted back to Spike. Stop it! Why did she have to think about him now,  
of all times? Forget Spike. He was a loser and a traitor.   
  
And yet she was not convinced.  
  
Part of her hurt inside, that he would betray her. Well what do you expect? He was a  
vampire.  
  
Oh. Right. She had forgotten.   
  
So was she.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Sorry Tara, she whispered, and she wiped the tears from her face. She was alone again,  
and her destination was close. She could sense the bird somewhere, somewhere nearby.  
  
She walked on.  
  
Her feet were sore and her legs were tiring, but it had to be done. She laughed, choking  
on the tears, as she thought of how she must look. A weak little girl searching for the  
most powerful being in the universe to bring home.  
  
Laughable.  
  
She passed an enormous rock cave when she got a sort of tingly feeling, a slight sensation  
that burned on her skin, making her skittish.  
  
Curious, she peered in and saw that the it was mysteriously lit by an unkown source.   
She stepped down the stairs, her senses alert for any type of intrusion. The staircase   
went on for a long while, and she was relieved when it ended.  
  
Yes. This must be the way.  
  
The light grew stronger with each step, until she had to squint, because it blinded her.  
  
And there it was.  
  
He was the biggest thing she had ever seen; The claws on the ends of his talons were  
taller than she. And yet she did not feel afraid. Flames spurted from his body like   
feathers, but she felt no heat.  
  
"Fire." She whispered his name and bowed before him. Fire, who produced Light and Ash.  
  
//You are the witch. The wisdom.\\  
  
Yes.  
  
//You have risked much.\\  
  
It was the right thing to do.  
  
//You sound very sure.\\  
  
She did not falter. She was sure.  
  
//Ah. You are not afraid.\\  
  
No.  
  
//You have power.\\  
  
Nothing compared to this.  
  
//You have few years, but I respect your craft.\\  
  
Thank you.  
  
//You have come to ask me a favour.\\  
  
Come to the dimension of Earth.  
  
//You are fortunate.\\  
  
Why is that?  
  
//I will come.\\  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
Hang on guys, just a few more chapters left!  
  
Please review.  
  
  



	12. Satan's Daughter

TITLE: Hell Unleashed  
  
AUTHOR: Drusilla  
  
RATING: R  
  
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish  
  
SPOILERS: The Gift  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause   
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.  
  
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: As you can tell, I took a huge break, so sorry for the delay to all the "fans"! (If you're even here anymore, LoL.) I must warn you that since I haven't worked on this for so long, this chapter's style is going to be quite different from the previous ones. I was going to ditch this project, actually, but I got re-inspired by Anne Rice's Memnoch the Devil.  
  
  
  
  
HELL UNLEASHED: Chapter 11  
--------------------------------------  
  
  
  
They sat unmoving, even as the first flickers of heat spat across the corner of the room. The silence seemed preserved, a fly in amber, as though they were, really, that fly, that insect so insignificant caught in some large scale.   
  
"And so it's begun," he whispered darkly, suddenly, and his tone seemed blasphemous somehow, wasting their preservation of some kind of peace. Not like Giles, so unlike him to panic first, to move first to dodge the danger, although this danger was not one with which the game could be played.  
  
"I don't understand!" Xander was shouting now, but there was nothing he could do to help it. "Isn't there-- isn't there something we can do? There's-- there's always! There's always something. Books!" He pointed a finger crookedly at the older man, an accusatory finger for his old friend. "We'll look at books! We'll research! Isn't that right? Isn't it--" But he was breaking already, and the accused never made as though to move, so the arm fell slack against himself once more.  
  
"This isn't something books can know." The former said, simply. "It's too old, too powerful. What will come will come, and we will all die if we must. To save God." He closed his eyes at the word.  
  
"Do you really believe that?" Xander was near pulling out his hair. "Is that what you believe this is? You believe that the creature we are trying to save is God?" He spat. "We don't know shit. You don't know shit. That is not God. That is not the God you *think* you love."  
  
"Isn't it then?" Her voice was high-pitched, nervous but clear. "I've lived for over a thousand years. Not once has anything happened that told me He existed. We were pagans. We had no love for the Christian gods. And yet your angel, your Peter comes here, comes to us with this message, and although we might die simply for that spark of hope, the spark of hope the He exists, it's happiness beyond words." Her breath was broken, and the flames were throwing themselves at their feet.  
  
"I can't--" He was crying hopelessly, his hands pawing at his head. "I can't stay here! I can't." He reached out to touch her face for a moment before snatching his fingers away. "You're-- you're warm." He shook his head. "Anya--"  
  
She smiled lazily as though drunk. The fire crept across her form like insects, furiously gathering and separating in a frenzy.  
  
"Anya!" He shouted, looking around wildly and receiving no reaction either of the two, Giles sitting motionless on the stair, Anya still smiling at him, forever smiling, as though it was all a cruel joke.   
  
"Xander," she sighed, finally, holding his arms as he struggled to keep the flames from her. "Don't you see? Don't you get it?" Her face was earnest, humoring him, he the infant with no comprehension of his surroundings. She ran the back of her hand across his cheek softly, barely making contact with his heated skin. Her voice was a whisper, silkily seductive and somehow appropriate in its low tone.  
  
"We're already dead."  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
She had forgotten where she was at first, panicking somewhat to feel her way across the room in the darkness, forgetting the use of her vampiric senses, forgetting intelligence. When memory came to her she was sad, almost, a strange feeling for her, and not one she would have preferred.   
  
She jumped as the doorknob turned once with a click, and a large, looming figure entered the room. His form was barely visible, save a thin outline, a shimmer he seemed to attract, and she gasped, because never in her life had she seen anything so beautiful, so lovely and terrible at once. His poise seemed tragic, his features powerful and sharp. When he spoke it was not a human voice: nothing close. His language was like silver, smooth and bell-like, unhindered by the human roughness.  
  
"You do not believe." It was barely a clash against the shadows, but the sounds fell like satin, washing over her with no hope of resolution.  
  
She could not reply, wasn't able to. No sound would come to her throat though she tried desperately to make some utterance of recognition.  
  
"You see, I understand you. Your thoughts are not concealed from me. I know your emotions. Your hatred for me. Your hatred for Him. But even then you do not believe."  
  
She had given up on language. *Do not believe in what?*  
  
His face moved as though he were amused. It was not a smile, for his face was not human and no smile could have been formed. He was, in fact, nothing like human. His eyes were black, rimmed with a dark yellow and he had no lips or ears that she could see. His skin seemed leathery for the most part, except for his wings, which were two massive folds of black feathers. It was not his features which gave him his beauty, or if it was, there was something much more. More his aura, his very presence that commanded such attention and respect, that was nothing if not beautiful.  
  
"The world. You think it is all a test, or a dream. You expect to wake up soon. You are in love with the past, my Daughter. In love with the memory of your human self. You won't let it go. You believe that when it's all over, everything will go back, and you will venture out again, far, far away. You believe that you can leave God and the Devil behind.  
  
"We aren't real to you, are we? You see us, you hear us, you touch us, but you don't believe it all the same. You don't trust what you see, because your eyes are dead, and you hate it, and you hate me, and you would have them be alive again."  
  
A tear rolled gently from her cheek. "Yes," formed her mouth.  
  
He nodded gently, and it seemed very uncommon for him, that simple gesture. "Do you know why I came to you like this? Without concealing myself, without encasing myself in magic and human skin?" He looked as though in mid-sigh.  
  
She looked at him and it was Death. He was Death, that was what she believed. Who else could be so beautiful, so seductive and disastrous?  
  
"No."  
  
She blinked abruptly at the sharpness of the word. "What?"  
  
"I am not Death. I do not have such a power. You have such a power. And that is why I need you."  
  
She didn't understand, of course, and narrowed her eyes.  
  
"You think we are divine creatures, you all do. You'd be one of us, would you not? Beautiful, magickal? You'd love to feel our power. Because you have not our years. You don't know the value of flesh." He turned away from her so she could not see his face. "Or Death.  
  
"In truth, my Childe, we loathe what we are. We would go into the flesh."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"It is only when one lives for an eternity that one recognizes the true worth of death."  
  
"So you cannot die?"  
  
"Oh, we can. We do. But who would challenge us? There is no one. Angels, Devils, we are brothers all the same, although we do not speak to each other, not ever, not a word. We know their names, but we do not say them, and only they are powerful enough to kill us. But they will not. And so we live on, and it's a terrible thing, our existence, but there is nothing else."  
  
"Nothing else," she repeated, whispering, her eyes closed.  
  
"The others I have no use for," He said, very suddenly. "They are worthless. They enjoy what they are entirely too much. They have forgotten our purpose, and that is suffering." He paused to take breath, although he did not need it. "But you," he sighed, almost in awe, "you would be my Daughter. You would do it, would you not?"  
  
"Do what? What can I do that you cannot?" She was utterly confused, bewildered to the point of weeping.   
  
He continued as though he had not heard her words. "You'll find Him, won't you? You'd do it because He has no meaning for you, not like the others. You will kill Him and He will be gone, and I will have His world, and His suffering."  
  
"Yes." Yes! The world was screaming. She'd do it! She'd bloody her hands with Sacred Blood for him! For the Devil!  
  
He turned to look at her again, found her satisfactory. "My Daughter."  
  
How could she not bow her head to every syllable he spoke? He had given her this power.  
  
"No. You still believe in Evil. That my not be so terrible. But you will learn, and you will soon understand. Evil is only a name. And your power is something that cannot be named."  
  
"You hate Him very much," she cried, and the whole concept of what he was saying was beyond her, though she had tried.   
  
"No." His tone was simple. "I love Him."  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
Please *Please* review! I'm tired of begging, but I'm going to continue until the number of reviews/updage is satisfactory! LoL. I really need to know what you guys think. 


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